


We Are Nameless.

by Katastrophi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Cat/Human Hybrids, Collars, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Keith has a natural stutter, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Mental Illness, Minor Character Death, Omegaverse dynamics, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Political Discourse, Sex, Slow Burn, Suicidal Ideation, Tags May Change, forced training, heat - Freeform, just heats though, keith becomes a little shit, keith learns to purr, mental and physical conditioning, nekomimi, no a/b/o, padfeet, poor college student lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2018-08-15 12:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8055715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katastrophi/pseuds/Katastrophi
Summary: Growing up, Lance knew that animal/human hybrids, better known as Galra, were a thing but he just didn't pay it much attention. He was too poor to afford a luxury pet like that, so why would he care about them? They weren't even common where he was from. Maybe he should've paid a little more attention.





	1. Into Hell's Mouth, We march

**Author's Note:**

> My first story for the Voltron fandom! :D I'm so excited, I've lurked the tags for a month or two now. This is a story that I've wanted to write for a while and it just seemed like the perfect idea for a Klance fic! 8D
> 
> If you wanna talk to me about these idiots you can always shoot me an ask/message on my [tumblr~ ](http://bluepalafin.tumblr.com/) or drop me a comment here! I'm always up for discussion and RPing.
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy~
> 
> Inspiration for this chapter: [Into Hell's Mouth, We March by Vanna](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j48X_8TkdXM&list=PLjbze5aGCE3VQHt8apNAwjrab0qpdO8Al&index=2)

_To Do List:_

_Go to Class - check_

_Grocery shop; sale on ramen today - check_

_Renew bus pass if promotional student sale is still available - failed; going to be walking for a while._

_Homework - On the way home now._

 

Lance ran his hands through his hair and almost wanted to scream. He went over his list of “has to get done today or else” multiple times as he walked down the sidewalk. Being a college student on your own for the first time is grueling and quite frankly terrifying. The brunette could now honestly write sonnets to his mama why it was pure punishment to have to grow up. There wasn’t a single part of the cuban boy that didn’t want to be five years old again, hanging off of his abuelita’s apron strings.

He started watching his feet as he made his way through a small crowd; it was an old habit he had developed as a kid. It typically didn’t bode well for walking the busy streets of Los Angeles, though. Lance collided with something solid and groaned loudly as he stumbled. Rubbing his forehead, it only took Lance a moment to notice the distinct purple hue of the person he’d accidentally hit. Eyes wide, he attempted to apologize profusely.

Her ears were folded back against her head and she looked sympathetic. Her bright yellow eyes were round and she parted her lips as if she was about to say something before her owner stepped in. The older white woman’s voice was soft and the Galra seemed to visibly relax. “Sorry kid, she didn't mean to scare you. Casia is a little shy.”

“N-no, sorry ma’am. It wasn't her fault, I wasn't watching where I was going. Have a nice day.” Lance tried to smile and bowed his head in apology.

Casia sounded like a pretty name; she has been dressed really well too. It was so nice to see someone actually letting their Galra have a sense of self and fashion. The older woman must have been a great owner. Lance mused over it for a moment as he cut across the street to a park close to his apartment. He stopped by a large sign reading “Dearborn Park” to check his phone. Gracious, his mother was a worry and a half; he loved her for it though.

That hadn't been the first Galra that Lance had met but it was almost just as jarring every time. Humanoid hybrids were practically unheard of out east where he was from. The south was still struggling with people that were different colors or sexualities let alone literally only part human. He couldn't imagine how tough it would be for a Galra out that way.

The concept of gene splicing had easily revolutionized the world and genetic modification ran rampant within the science communities. It started with plants to produce better, fuller crops and led to fixing genetic disadvantages in dogs like an English Bulldog’s respiratory problems. And well, then it just grew until people decided that putting animal features on humans seemed like a grand idea. There were several painstaking ethics debates about Galra and their place in the world; if they were considered human, didn't they have unalienable rights, was it beastiality to marry one… Lance had grown up hearing about the discourse his entire life.

Lance was just barely old enough to remember the outrage and protests that had broken out across the world when the UN had decided that Galra, intrinsically were high class pets. People started selling the humanoid dogs and cats, profiting off of the “breeding” Galra and their new societal title. Sure, a heavy amount of the Galra went into medical training to become special needs helpers but it was common knowledge that the rich and elite liked to keep them as pets or maids. Even their skin color was a mark of their treatment. The purple skin tone was synthetically introduced so that one could easily spot the Galra from a crowd. You can cover your ears and tails but skin was a bit more tricky to hide.

Lance had never liked thinking about it. He had no use for a Galra pet; a “special helper” or otherwise. Hell, he'd never even dream of being able to afford one let alone want to own a humanoid like that. The entire thing felt a whole lot too much like slavery for his tastes. He felt a little guilty about it, but honestly it had just never been an issue he had to deal with growing up. Galra were for rich or disabled people, not poor Latino boys growing up in the Gulf. It's easy to block out an issue when it's not constantly in your face.

The smell of candy roasted pecans and funnel cake wafted through the air, pulling Lance away from his phone. His stomach grumbled and it was more than tempting to blow what little spending money he had on a sweet treat. He hated walking through the park sometimes; he hated being jealous of little kids running around with ice cream and no cares in the world. Negative thoughts like that didn’t help anything though. Lance could practically hear his mother yelling at him to enjoy the situation he has and to never steal someone else’s walk of life because you never know how rough their path is.

He sighed softly and shoved his phone into his back pocket. With a renewed vigor, Lance made his way through the park and happily watched as a few kids were gathering up for a quick game of basketball. He almost tripped on a frisbee that had hit him in the ankle and caught himself by grabbing onto a metal bike rack. He yelped and pulled away from the metal, falling onto his bum. The metal had to be at least 100 degrees from constantly baking in the sun.

Lance shook his hand, trying to quell the gentle burn to his palm and stubbornly kicked the bike rack. He would have almost completely missed the figure in front of him had it not been for the quiet whimper when the metal vibrated. Lance’s eyes went wide as he watched the galra male curl his knees closer, covering his face. Something didn’t feel right about this situation.

Lance forgot about the slight pain in his hand and moved slowly, trying to get closer to the frightened hybrid. It flinched and Lance’s face dropped. The poor thing was clearly frightened and under distress. He glanced around, trying to see why no one else was with the Galra or at the very least watching over it and trying to help find it’s owner. That’s when he noticed the thick band around the purple being’s neck and followed it to where the “leash” was looped to the solid metal bike rack. Someone had left this poor being here, tethered like some kind of disobedient dog.

The galra tried to moved, yanking at the leather-- fuck, was that a belt?! -- around his neck and only ended up choking slightly and knocking his knees into the foliage. How long had this poor creature been here? Was this normal? Did people just regularly tie up Galra and then just go galavanting around the park? Lance looked over the Galrian boy and swallowed thickly. He only had on a pair of dirty black swim trunks and his tail looked bruised from the way he was forced to sit from the leash keeping him too low to get comfortable or stretch his legs. The skin across his cheeks looked almost navy from an obvious sunburn and Lance could feel a steady rage pulling at his stomach when he saw the blistered burns on the back on the boy’s legs and neck from the metal and concrete.

A metal bowl was close to his hand, bone dry and filthy from exposure to dirt and nature. How had the boy been drinking from it if his neck was quite literally chained a few inches from the metal railing? The human couldn’t think clearly. He knew feral galra, what little there were, could be dangerous but nothing about this cowering boy screamed wild. He took a step closer and extended his hand, speaking low. “Hi, my name is Lance. D-do you have a name?”

The black haired galra shook his head, wincing at how the binding moved against his tender flesh. He pointed to Lance’s feet, bright yellow eyes petrified and wide. Lance looked down, realizing he had stepped on some kind of cardboard. It was literally a sign.

_Untrainable. Take him._

Lance didn't think it was possible to be as beyond livid as he currently was. The cardboard wilted and bent under his hold as he tried to think of anything he could possibly do. Did he tell the police? Did he call animal control? This poor boy deserved and needed attention now. The back of his neck looked almost like a second degree burn.

Lance knew what he had to do. His family would never let him show his face at home again if they knew he turned his back on this poor boy. Taking a deep breath, the Latino hunkered down onto the Galra’s level. He hissed slightly from the heat of the concrete on his bare knees but knew it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

“I'm going to undo this belt, alright? Please stay still. I will try my best to be as gentle as possible.” Lance's voice was soft, almost like he was talking to a child that didn't want to rip a bandaid off.

A small whimper passed the purple skinned boy’s lips but he physically stiffened, sitting on his palms as a sign of good faith. A part of him seemed to trust Lance.

“Dios…” Even the leather of the belt was uncomfortably hot in Lance's hand. This poor, poor boy had to be in almost excruciating pain. To his credit though, the Galra never once lashed out or snapped at Lance like the human’s anxiety had supplied.

Standing up, Lance offered the boy his hand. A soft, sad smile breached his features and he tried to help the other to stand. “I’m… I'm going to help you back to my apartment, alright? I can feed you and treat any sore spots you have.”

Yellow eyes narrowed but his peaked interest was given away by the almost too large furry ears lifting from their pressed down position. Oh no, this poor boy was adorable. Lance gave a small, genuine smile and surveyed the boy's form a final time now that he was standing.

The Galra was short, possibly the same age or younger than Lance himself; seemingly malnourished if his ribs were anything to go by and… holy fuck, Galra had padded feet. How had Lance never known that there were humanoids walking around, doing day to day life things with literal paws for feet. Jesus Christ, that was adorable.

No. this is serious. Focus.

Stringy black hair clung to the Galra’s forehead and neck, making his eyes pop even more. This particular boy must of been a cat hybrid; those eyes were stunning and beyond sharp. Despite his incredibly obvious fear, Lance almost felt like this creature could stare into his soul and use him as a veritable puppet. It was unnerving. The boy’s lithe frame looked wobbly and exhausted but a line of defiance raced through his eyes. Lance liked that.

Lance should've seen it coming when the trembling boy fainted and fell forward. His skin felt clammy and almost sticky when Lance tried to hold him up. Anxiety and panic struck the Hispanic college student, making him send a quick prayer that this poor soul didn't just die or that it didn't seem like Lance was stealing someone's pet. How had no one else seen this poor hybrid? He had clearly been there long enough to suffer pure heat exhaustion and dehydration. How had people just walked passed him without even trying to help? Lance’s stomach soured.

Scooping up the unconscious boy, Lance did the only thing he could do and started the trek to his apartment. He held the nameless Galra close to his chest, another wave of anger crashing over him at the realization of how small and skinny he was. This was far more than a few days of missed meals. God, the brunette hoped his new companion liked cup ramen.

Lance, barely stopping to think about it, whispered his vows to the hopefully resting kid. He would save him. He would make sure take care of him properly and give him a life worth living. No one deserved to be thrown out like yesterday's garbage. He didn't have a lot, but he knew deep down that this was the right thing to do and he would choose this path every time.


	2. Let's Have an Earthquake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JESUS CHRIST YOU GUYS. OH MY GOD, I DID NOT EXPECT EVEN A 1/4TH OF THE RESPONSE THAT I GOT FROM THE FIRST CHAPTER. YOU ARE ALL SO AMAZING AND I WISH I COULD GIVE YOU ALL A GIFT BASKET OR SOMETHING.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Instead just have this shitty rushed chapter as my thank you~~
> 
>  
> 
> Oh my god, I'm nervous now. I hope I can live up to everyone's expectations. <3  
> as always, my blog is [ here ](http://bluepalafin.tumblr.com/) and you are absolutely more than welcome to come talk to me about voltron or klance or anything really!! I've been wanting to find some rp partners too if anyone is interested in that u3u
> 
>  
> 
> ~~I would quite honestly write someone their own oneshot nsfw or otherwise if they would draw these two idiots for me, and especially Keith as the galra in this fic.~~
> 
> Inspiration for this Chapter: [ Let's Have an Earthquake by Vanna](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZAfVbxsejY0&index=3&list=PLjbze5aGCE3VQHt8apNAwjrab0qpdO8Al)

“Don’t fucking poke him, oh my god. Pidge. What the hell are you doing?” Lance was pacing through the small walking space of his living room, wanting to pull at his hair. This was stupid. How could he of been this stupid?

The Galran boy was on his couch, sleeping. The steady rise and fall of his chest was the only thing quelling Lance’s anxiety that the purple skinned male had died. That didn’t stop this from being a stupid thing, though. Like, yeah, Lance had just saved this boy’s life, but what fucking good would taking him out of that park do if he couldn’t feed the both of them or treat this kid’s wounds?! He didn’t even know his name!

Lance lived by one philosophy in life though. When in doubt, call Hunk and Pidge. That single law has saved him from every bout of flu he has had in the last four years and even when the bus he’d been riding had literally caught fire while he was on his way to his final exam last semester. Hunk had never driven that little moped of his faster in his life. 

Pidge, a slender polish decent girl with thick messy waves of auburn hair, used her glasses as a headband as she examined the sleeping figure. She rolled her eyes at Lance’s frantic pacing and sighed. “Well for one, I’m not  _ poking _ him; I'm checking to make sure his burns are only second degree and not third. The one on the back of his neck is likely going to get infected if we don't clean it soon. He needs to eat and bathe too. He smells like that dead body plant.” 

“That doesn't sound nice, Pidge. I mean, it's not like he could’ve just gotten up and showered.” Hunk, a stocky Filipino boy, worried his fingers into the fabric of the headband he avidly wore, enjoying the textile feeling against his skin. 

“Yeah, I know that. I meant, you know, his flesh literally smells burnt and infected. He needs to get cleaned as soon as possible.” Pidge let her glasses slide back down her face and she fixed her fringe quickly. God, she was glad she’d chopped her hair to her shoulders. The summer months were like death here. 

Lance whined loudly, his body collapsing tiredly into the fold out chair he kept by the front door as a catch-all. He gripped at the knees of his jeans and looked up at his two friends. Hunk hiked a leg up and started sitting on the arm of the couch. Lance gave a wary smile, trying not to go into a full blown panic attack. No one needed that right now, especially the unconscious boy he was attempting to help.

“Uh,” Hunk scratched the back of his neck. “Medical stuff makes me have sympathy pains so uh, I’m going to raid your cabinets and try to find something that the poor guy could stomach, yeah? Maybe a light soup or soft bread. I got paid today, I can make a grocery run if you need it, pal.”

Lance’s heart swelled in his chest as he watched his mother hen of a best friend. There was just a swarm of platonic love attacking his senses. These two dropped everything as soon as he had called. Pidge had even beaten him to the apartment and had the couch ready and as comfortable for the Galra as possible. Honestly, he didn’t remember a time that Pidge didn’t have a key to any of his living places. And now, Hunk was doing his best to help in any way, especially knowing that Lance’s food was going to be stretched beyond his means. God, his friends were amazing. 

“Th-thanks guys, Seriously.” 

Pidge looked up from the sleeping boy and nodded, giving an unusually soft smile. She reached over and ruffled Lance’s hair, enjoying how he almost instantly relaxed to the touch. He had always been easily reassured with physical touch. He said it was incredibly grounding. The dirty blonde girl pulled away from her kneeling position in front of the couch and brushed off her knees. “You’re welcome, buddy. No worries. I’m going to sleep better knowing we were able to help someone who needed it.” 

Lance nodded, returning the smile. Before he could change his mind, the Cuban boy lifted from the chair and moved closer to Pidge and the Galra. He flexed his shoulders and paused to enjoy the tension pull from his body. “So what should I do?”

Pidge swallowed, always proud to see Lance so serious in the face of something life changing. The happy-go-lucky boy really had grown up and matured. She faltered for a moment though, realizing that once the Galra was clean things would become near instantaneously more difficult. “I… well, after we clean him and make sure he’s healthy again…” 

Pidge scratched at her upper arm, right under the brim of her sleeve. “Do you plan on… you know,  _ keeping him, _ Lance? That is going to be a big responsibility, and you will have to register him, and likely pay a pet deposit here. Does this apartment even allow pets?”

Lance wrinkled his nose, glancing over the boy’s form. It was really uncomfortable to call something so human a pet. The concept just wasn’t grasping any foothold in Lance’s mind. He licked over the color of his bottom lip and shrugged. “I mean, I’m not gonna throw him out or nothin’ like that? I wouldn’t have brought him home to just make him go through that bullshit all over again. I don’t really wanna you know --own him, though?”

Lance let his eyes trace over the sleeping figure’s incredibly  _ not _ human feet, noticing that his  _ paws _ legitimately did resemble those of a cat’s and it seemed like he would have retractable claws. There was a sleek, slightly matted tail wrapped around an incredibly too skinny thigh and last, his  _ ears _ ; God, those ears looked silky and soft to the touch. They just seemed to almost flop over, partially hiding the kid’s face. Lance could get over the purple hue clinging to his skin, humans come in different colors -- it’s kinda their thing. But the  _ nonhuman _ bits were throwing him for a loop. Maybe it was his lack of exposure to Galra? His momma always taught him that it was rude to stare. 

“Galra can’t be their own owners, Lance. Feral Galra are technically illegal and will get put in a shelter if they get caught.” Pidge had a heavy frown on her features, clearly not happy about the information she was providing.

“Let’s just,” Lance swallowed, forcing his fingers through his hair. “Let’s just worry about his immediate issues and then when he is lucid and not in threat of literally dying on my sofa we can start on the other shit.”

Pidge nodded, knowing Lance would start fidgeting again if he couldn’t work at his own pace. It was true though, some things really were more important than paperwork and legality. She moved back and rested her arm on Lance’s shoulder. “I think you should wake him up. I’m going to go grab your medical kit. You’re the most familiar face in the room so it should at the very least calm him down enough to not hurt himself worse.” 

Steeling his emotions, Lance nodded and stood up. He dropped to his knees and looked at the sleeping Galra’s face, feeling somewhat bad for disrupting his sleep. He had to do this though, didn’t he? Lance had been stupid and taken an unconscious boy home rather than the hospital, and now he really had to deal with it or this sad state of a Galra was going to end up in worse shape because of it. Lance couldn’t live with that on his conscience. 

Placing his right hand on the purple creature’s side gave Lance a moment to muse about the heat of his skin and just how soft it was under slight callouses. It was almost like the warm hum of an old computer or television coming to life. Lance could literally feel the vibrancy of existence just under this kid’s flesh. It made the latino boy want to cry. Nothing this  _ alive _ deserved to be beaten and tied down while being told they were unwanted to somehow a failure. 

Lance moved his hand gently, watching for any signs that he was hurting the Galra. His skin was clearly discolored and there was almost no elasticity to his arms. This unfortunate being was horrifically dehydrated. It only fueled Lance all the more to make sure that the Galran boy would be given the hospitality and kindness any being deserved. “Hey, please wake up.”

Lance didn’t like not knowing the Galra’s name. It made him feel incredibly uncomfortable to think of someone in terms he would give a dog or plant. The kid looked a bit different from everyone else, that didn’t mean that he should be treated any differently or made to feel inferior. Honestly, it made his skin crawl. 

Murky, dull yellow eyes fluttered open and a rumble of a hiss cut through the air. There was a lashing of teeth and limbs as the boy shot up, clearly terrified to not know his surroundings. Lance had been ready though. He wasn’t stupid by any means; he knew anyone would be frightened after being so badly abused. Swallowing thickly, the brunette reached forward and grasped at the Galra’s shoulders so that he couldn’t break away. There was no way the boy could break Lance’s grip if he was so tired and malnourished; kind of a dick move but it was for his benefit. 

“Hey, hey,” Lance’s voice was soft, like he was trying to soothe a wild animal into taking food from his hand. His thumbs stroked over the boy’s biceps in what he hoped were comforting motions. “I’m Lance, I found you in the park. You’ve been badly injured. I want to  _ help _ ; my friends are here to help as well. Hunk is in the kitchen making you food and Pidge is going to help me with your injuries. If this isn’t comfortable for you, we can take you to a hospital. You are safe here, you are not being held against your will.”

Golden eyes narrowed but the kid’s ears perked in interest. His left ear flicked multiple times, clearly scratched or in pain. Lance felt bad for the boy because he had no idea what that could possibly feel like. He moved back and sat down on the couch beside of the Galra, trying to seem friendly and on his own level. “Do you have a name? Can you speak?"

“K31.” Lance was shocked at the voice that fell from those chapped, paled lips. It sounded small and tired but so young and raspy. He sounded like he was burning from the inside out.

“K31?” Pidge questioned, carrying a few towels and the rudimentary first aid kit under her arms. She set them down beside of Lance, keeping her distance of the Galra until she had his permission. 

Lance scowled. No. Fuck this. No. This boy was going to have a proper name. He wasn’t some factory model duplicate of the latest iphone or robot. He was living and breathing. Even the shittiest of people name their fucking dogs. He cleared his throat and his fingers almost twitched. He had to school his emotions quickly when those pretty purple ears began to droop and the boy’s tail protectively wrapped around his middle. He was petrified. 

From the sounds of things, the Galra had a damn good right to be afraid of humans. Lance would make up for that though. He wanted to help make up for anything that happened to him. K31… “How about we call you Keith? You are allowed a name. You can pick whatever you want though. I just, you know uh, don’t really feel comfortable calling you some kind of number, you know?” 

The Galra, now considerably calmed down, nodded and looked up to Lance. He shifted and let his shoulders go limp, giving the human complete control over him. There was no sense in fighting if he had a new master. He didn’t want to get thrown out again so soon.

“K-Keith. My n-name is Keith.” 


	3. A Lunatic's Lament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohmYGOD guys. You are all so fucking amazing! I can't believe how nice and supportive you all are! Like, I've never had this much of a response on a fic from the very beginning, EVER. I hope you guys love it as much as I love writing it!
> 
> Your comments seriously make my day. <3 I even made the chapter a bit longer than the other two to celebrate.
> 
> My tumblr is [here](http://bluepalafin.tumblr.com/) and I would love it if you guys came to talk to me about Voltron or even wanted to start an RP 8D You could even drop me some prompts you'd like to see written.
> 
> Chapter inspiration: [ A Lunatic's Lament by Alesana](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gu9CmrDBiwQ&list=PLjbze5aGCE3VQHt8apNAwjrab0qpdO8Al&index=4)

Cleaning the Galra’s wounds had not been a fun way to spend the night but honestly, it was still better than the bullshit calculus his professor wanted Lance to complete. Math was stupid and the numbers don't make sense at least eighty percent of the time. Keith had been willing to let Pidge look at the bubbled and irritated blistering along his thighs with a bright flush high in his cheeks but it had been a complete up hill battle trying to get the kitten like boy in a bath. 

Keith was incredibly skittish, jumping with a hiss bubbling up on his lips at just about everything that moved. His ears flicked and were constantly on high alert, causing his skin to almost prickle with gooseflesh when anything grazed against him. Lance didn’t blame him, honestly; it just made everything roughly five times harder than it had to be. 

Lance had eventually gotten the boy into the shower, having him sit in the tub as the water gently cascaded over him. It seemed like Keith’s legs couldn’t even support his weight from fatigue and lack of nutrition once the adrenaline of fear left his bones. The swim trunks that the boy had been wearing were stripped from him far easier than the fight over the shower and if Lance was being honest, that worried him more than he liked to admit. 

The brunette helped Keith clean himself to the best of his abilities, wanting to make sure that he didn’t hurt himself on accident or somehow pass out again. Pidge had thankfully thought ahead and raided Lance’s closet for some clothing for the hybrid to wear. The wary cat was now sitting on the couch in a pair of joggers that were far too baggy for his frame and an old soccer shirt from high school, letting Lance run a bit of aloe vera on the back of his neck. Pidge had used a pair of scissors to make a hole in the back of the pants for Keith’s tail and it flicked idly when Lance bandaged the boy’s neck.

Keith’s body was swaying and he was barely awake after the assault of warm water relaxing his senses. Hunk was beyond determined to get food into the kitten though. Lance had never quite seen such a determined sparkle in his friend’s eye before. The pudgy filipino boy sat on the edge of the sofa next to Keith, spooning small mouthfuls of chicken broth into his mouth. He would pause every few minutes and let Keith breath, making sure that he wouldn’t get sick from the new feeling of fullness in his stomach. 

Lance stood in the doorway between his living room and kitchen, watching over the two. He was really confused over the whole situation, if he was to be honest with himself. How did Keith get out there in that park? How had literally  _ no one _ seen him before Lance had stumbled upon him? Would the Galra have died out there had he not intervened? How could someone literally not care about intelligent life to the point of refusing to  _ name _ them? 

Pidge wrinkled her nose as she walked passed Lance and bumped him with her hip. “You’re thinkin’ too hard Champ. I can smell the smoke. What’s naggin’ at ya?”

Lance pursed his lips before throwing a quick glare at his friend. She aptly ignored him and started working through the dishes that Hunk had dirtied to try and feed the Galra. She tossed the cuban boy a drying towel and he sighed loudly. 

“I have a dishwasher, you know.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re going to work yourself into a panic if you don’t stop and this will help you burn excess energy.” Pidge started running a sink full of water and flicked Lance with the spray once or twice, trying to take the edge off of everything. 

Lance made a face but didn’t argue aside from trying to playfully hit Pidge back with his towel. He was honestly glad that his friends understood him more than he did himself; it really took the edge off most of the time to know that someone really did care about you. He picked at a thread on the stupid watermelon themed towel as he waited for Pidge to get some kind of headway and chewed at the color of his bottom lip. 

“Speak.”

Lance cut another glare at Pidge. “I’m not a dog, Pidge…” He fiddled with the rag in his hands before letting his gaze soften. “That might be a part of the problem though… I’m… I’m in way over my head, you know? There is a person on my couch with fucking cat ears and  _ paws for feet _ .”

“Why does that bother you?” Pidge arched a brow, clearly trying to help Lance keep his thoughts linear.

“Because…” Lance ran his fingers through his fringe, frustrated. “Because, if I hadn’t been there when I had… what if no one saw him? What if he  _ died _ ?! He didn’t even have a name! What kind of fucked up life did this poor cat lead that he recited his  _ number _ like a mantra? He can’t stand because he hasn’t eaten to the point of actual starvation! He has literal burns on his body from being strapped to a bike rack for  _ days _ ! No one else noticed him, Pidge. He looked petrified that I had even come close to him.”

Lance was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he gripped at the edge of the sink. He didn’t have time for a panic attack or anything close to it right now. There were so many more important things he had to deal with. Pidge reached over and rubbed her hand between his shoulder blades. “I’m sorry, Lance, but I think you finding him is likely the best case scenario for him. You saved his life. You took the initiative to not let him suffer through that. I’m sure once he is a bit more lucid he will be more than thankful.”

The latino boy squeezed his eyes shut to keep the room from spinning but leaned into his friend’s delicate touch. “That’s an even bigger part of the problem though, isn’t it? He shouldn’t have to be fuckin’ thankful that he’s not dead or treated like some animal on too short of a leash. I did the bare minimum of human decency in not letting him literally starve to death or croak from heat exposure. Like yeah, Galra are ‘pets’ or whatever but seriously? No one deserves that.”

Pidge gave a faltered smile, turning back to the dishes. “You’re a good man, Lance. Not a lot of people see it that way. Galra are pets or useful tools to make human’s lives easier. I don’t like it any more than you do, but that’s just… that’s how it is. That’s how it has always been.” 

“But why are they just pets? Sure they have ears and stuff, but Keith can talk and move around on his own and… fuck,  _ he didn’t have a name _ , Pidge. I can’t get over it. I can’t be the best option for him. I can barely feed myself without you and Hunk helping me. This… I… I can’t do this, Pidge.” Lance was visibly shaking, and he ran his hands under the cold spray of water. Water always made him feel better. Water was simple and it made sense. 

The blonde girl raked her teeth over her bottom lip for a second, trying to word what she wanted to say. She didn’t want to guilt Lance into anything but she could see how much it would weigh on the man beside her if he didn’t know how Keith was doing. Lance had a heart of gold and the self-worth of a paper cup; if anyone was going to treat Keith how Lance felt he needed to be treated, it as going to be Lance. “I think you should keep him. We can help you, Lance. We can get the paperwork started, and you act like we don’t constantly crash over here and feed each other anyway… Do you really want to put him back out into the world where this could just happen all over again? What if someone doesn’t save him next time?”

There was a defeated slump in Lance’s stature. He blinked back tears he refused to shed, forcing himself to get a grip. He could break down later when someone’s life quite literally didn’t hang in the balance. “You have a point. I mean, first thing first is getting him healthy and I’ll ask him if he even wants to stay. He isn’t my pet. I don’t want to have  _ control _ over him, you know? I don’t… fuck. Pidge, I’m scared. What if he doesn’t make it? You saw how frail he is… God, how old is he, even?”

“We can take him to a vet, if it will make you feel better. If he was ever registered to begin with, they will likely have him on file somewhere. I think most Galra are chipped these days.” Pidge shrugged, trying to be as helpful as possible. 

“Yeah… if sleep and some food doesn’t make him feel better, then let’s go with that. None of us can afford a vet bill, though.” Lance started drying the dishes again, his muscles exhausted. Why did panic attacks have to make you tired on top of everything else? Seriously, what point does that even serve? Human bodies are fucking weird.

Hunk walked into the kitchen with an empty bowl and a small smile on his face. “I got him to eat all of it and he didn’t turn green, or whatever shade Galra turn if they are gonna barf, so I think his stomach is alright for the most part. He’s out cold now, though. He curled in on himself on the couch and looks like he’s sleeping a lot better this time around.” 

Lance’s eyes brightened at the news. God, he could kiss Hunk directly on the mouth sometimes. The both of them, Pidge and Hunk respectively, knew exactly how to make him feel better. Settling on a group hug, Lance took a deep pleasure in getting crushed between Pidge and Hunk. This could work. They could really make a difference in this Galra’s life. It was at the very least worth the effort, right?

\--

Two days passed before the catboy even attempted to start talking. Lance always left notes about where he was going to be if he absolutely had to leave the apartment but he didn’t like leaving Keith alone when he had been so sick. The boy had woken up after Hunk and Pidge left and expelled everything he had eaten while almost threatening a fever. Lance had panicked and called a vet to walk him through it. That wasn’t a bill he was going to be excited about seeing. The most that could be done was to just slowly introduce food back into the Galra’s system and keep fluids in him as much as possible. 

When Lance had come home from CSUN, he hadn’t actually expected Keith to be awake. The brown haired boy had even opted to grab a boba treat with Hunk on the way home. It was nice to see those purple tinted furry ears upright and alert though, he had to admit. Bright yellow eyes looked to Lance with curiosity and it was almost unnerving to watch the black irises shift with the light in the room. 

“Uh, hi?”

Keith’s tail made a light ‘thwap’ noise against the back of the sofa and he gave a sheepish smile causing Lance to grin widely in return. The cat hybrid rubbed at his forearm slightly, and let his eyes graze the door before focusing completely on Lance. “Y-you named me.”

Lance took a sip of his drink and chewed at one of the tapioca pearls from the bottom. He watched Keith and nodded. “I uh, I wasn’t really sure if you were going to remember that or not. You don’t have to keep the name, you know. I just…. I felt really uncomfortable calling you a number.”

Keith resituated on the sofa and held his knees. His toes flexed slightly against the material, showing off somewhat brittle looking claws. Lance noticed that his left ear still seemed to flick almost uncontrollably when relaxed. He almost wondered if it hurt but the galra spoke first.  “Names a-a-are only for  _ pets _ , sir. I-I ain’t, uh… good.”

Lance frowned, his brow furrowing. What had this poor boy possibly gone through? He didn’t even think he was good enough to be a pet? The brunette sat down on the couch next to Keith, unsure if he would okay with touches. He turned and studied the boy’s face, marveled by how his yellow eyes almost glowed when compared to his dark skin. “You don’t have the be  _ good _ or a pet, okay? Like, it is not my place to be telling you what to do or how to live your life, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t die, okay?”

The Galra sniffed slightly, his head tilting. “You’re a stra-st-strange human.”

Lance pursed his lips but didn’t say anything that might be misconstrued as actually angry. It was clear that Keith had a rough go as far as humans went. Lance wasn’t about to add to that stress. “Sometimes strange isn’t a bad thing. So uh,” He decided that being blunt would likely be the best bet. “How old are you? I mean, I keep calling you a kid in my head but that seems a little rude.” 

Keith’s eyes widened and his ears shifted as he seemed to think. Jesus christ, was he seriously counting on his fingers? Lance almost laughed at how cute that was. Keith’s voice startled him, breaking that line of thought.

“Nineteen?”

Lance gasped slightly, looking over his form. There was no way that this small guy was almost the same age as him. Well, it could be possible seeing as he likely wasn’t fed properly and his shoulders were in no way broad. If Lance was being honest with himself, he’d say that Keith’s form had an almost feminine curve to it with the way his hips seemed too wide for his stomach. Lance feigned a happy tone, trying to push away all of the sad feelings that came with thinking of this kid’s conditions. “No way? You’re not much younger than me. I’ll be 21 in July.”

The Galra leaned heavily against the arm of the sofa and seemed to curl harder into himself. He scratched at the base of his left ear, wincing slightly before looking at Lance. “Thank you f-for uh, t-taking me in?”

“Why didn’t you just free yourself? The belt had a buckle on it?” Lance blurted out his questions before he had time to even process them. Fuck, that was insensitive wasn’t it? 

Keith furrowed his brow, yawning as he rested his head on his arms. His stutter seemed to calm somewhat now that he was falling asleep. Lance didn’t blame him; if he had almost died he’d sleep for years too.

“Good boys don’t di-disobey orders. That’s why I was punished in the first pl-place.” 


	4. Underneath Every Smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H o l y s h i t guys. I can't fucking believe this response. Seriously. You guys are so amazing and kind and honestly the best fans of a fic that i could ever imagine!! All of you have been so complimentary and supportive. I can't believe it. 
> 
> I admit, this chapter was a little hard to get out. My depression flared up really bad for a few days and nothing sounded good. I wrote and rewrote the beginning of this a million times over. I hope it sounds good! :D
> 
> One note, all of the conversation between Lance and his mom is in Spanish. I personally don't speak Spanish (My language study is in French, which does not help this fic at a l l ;A; ) and I don't trust google translate to give a proper translation so I simply wrote it in English and italicized it. If any of you would want to take the time to translate it, i would be more than grateful and be happy to change it in fic. Otherwise, this seemed like the best course of action; I'm sorry if that breaks the vision/story for you though! D: 
> 
> My tumblr is [here](http://bluepalafin.tumblr.com/) and I would absolutely be stoked if you came and talked to me! I've been writing small ficlets in my ask and I will happily do mini plots for you! :D
> 
> Chapter Inspired by: [ Underneath Every Smile (Acoustic) by I See Stars](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=krEHRh439aM&list=PLjbze5aGCE3VQHt8apNAwjrab0qpdO8Al&index=5)

_ Brrzzt. BRRZZT. Brrzzt. BRRZZT.  _

Furry ears perked at the noise coming from down the hall. The sound resonated through the entire apartment and it was starting to grate on Keith’s nerves and cause a headache. He groaned and tried to rub at his ears, wanting almost desperately to block out the noise. He pushed himself into a sitting position and blinked slowly, trying to wake up just a fraction more.

The cat was on the ground, a blue and pink afghan pooling around his hips from where it fell off his shoulders. The material was scratchy but it was incredibly warm. The cheap beige carpet was hot from his body heat but there was a significant draft in the air. The galra wanted nothing more than to grab at the blanket and burrow himself back into the floor but that infuriating noise was driving him up a wall. Was it a siren? Did it mean that something was wrong?

Standing up, the galra stretched and his toes buried into the warm blanket before moving away. The noise was incessant and wouldn't stop.  His ears wilted against his head as he started moving out of the living room. He didn’t know if he was allowed to roam around the apartment by himself but something had to stop that torture device. 

The loud vibrations seemed to be coming from the room at the far end of the apartment. Keith’s tail swished behind him; he was clearly nervous and unsure of himself. Coming up to the door, the small galra started to paw at it. His dulled claws scraped at the cheap paint and he yelped when the door opened on it’s own. 

The alarm stopped, letting Keith's ears relax as he stared up at Lance's sleepy form. He hunkered down dipping his head. He knew not to look owners in the eye. That was a privilege only awarded to humans.

“G’mornin’ Keith.” Lance yawned behind his hand before raking his fingers through his hair. He stepped around the cat, a little confused as to why he was on his haunches in the middle of the hallway. 

“Did you need something? Are you feeling alright?” 

Keith’s tail twitched and he bowed his head, knowing he needed to answer a direct question. He faltered, his ears sagging. “Noise. Th-there was a no-noise.”

Lance tilted his head, a little confused by the galra’s actions. Was this just how they normally acted? He shifted and leaned down so that he was level with Keith and showed him his phone. He had a gentle smile on his face nonetheless. “Yeah, sorry. I set an alarm so I could get up for an early lecture. I guess you slept through it the last few days.” 

Keith frowned slightly, his nose wrinkled. So that stupid black thing was making that horrible noise? It was the devil. His left ear flicked when he tried to move and a slight embarrassed flush graced his cheeks. He was already showing his new handler he was defective; great. He leaned over and sniffed at the phone, unsure what else he was supposed to do with it. 

Lance furrowed his brow but smiled despite Keith acting strange. It was actually kind of really adorable. This boy was definitely more cat than he had ever imagined him to act. Though, after what little he had said about his past, that seemed like that’s all he had ever been allowed to be. That made the college student’s heart thump heavily in his chest and he reached over, lightly petting the galra’s ears. This was okay, wasn’t it?

The cat hybrid had stiffened at the contact, certain he was going to get hit. When the blow never came, now bright yellow eyes peered up at Lance, awe taking over his features. He could feel Lance’s stubbed fingernails graze over the scar tissue in his left ear and it instantly started flicking against the human’s hand. It didn’t hurt near as bad as Keith had assumed. Why was Lance petting him? Had he done something good?

Lance was beaming when he pulled away. His entire face was alight with a happiness that the galra couldn’t even begin to place. He let his hand fall away from Keith’s head and he stood up. “I’m gonna pop into the shower real fast an’ then make some breakfast for us, okay? I gotta get to class soon but Hunk and Pidge wanted to take the both of us out for dinner, yeah? It will be fun!”

Keith moved to stand after Lance turned into the bathroom and shut the door. He hadn’t gotten scolded for being too far from his spot in the living room and he had even gotten petted? The kitten couldn’t put the pieces together. His head was still incredibly murky thanks to the lasting effects of heat exhaustion and over the counter medications but this was still strange behavior for a human, right? 

Keith padded towards the blanket Lance let him have and curled up on it, trying to avoid bumping into the couch or crate that Lance used as a coffee table. He yawned with a snap of his jaws and his toes flexed as he tried to make himself comfortable. The world was weird and he was still exhausted. He was so close to drifting back to sleep when the small apartment was flooded with humidity. There was a distinct fruity smell clinging around heavy musk in the air. Keith’s senses seemed to perk. He liked the smell. 

“Why are you on the floor, sleepyhead?” Lance was making his way toward the kitchen, wearing a pair of joggers low on his hips. His hair was still wet from the shower. 

Lance started rummaging through the refrigerator and missed the look of confusion on the galra’s face. He chewed at the color of his bottom lip for a moment, deciding that he’d actually gotten up with enough time to actually make a decent breakfast. Eggs and toast were likely calm enough for Keith to eat without trouble too. 

“Hey kitty cat, how do you like your eggs?” Lance spoke over his shoulder as he checked the carton, hoping they weren’t bad. How long did eggs last, anyway? Jesus, he really needed to go on a proper grocery run. 

The bleary eyed galra stood up awkwardly, his tail swished behind him. He was careful not to let his fur actually touch anything though. His ears shifted forward, clearly trying to make sense of what Lance had asked him. “Wh-what did you sa-s-say, sir?”

“Eggs… you know, the things that people crack open and eat? How do you want yours cooked?” Lance grabbed a pack of shredded cheese and some butter as well. “You know, scrambled, sunny side up, fried… eggs are pretty universal.”

Keith watched Lance, a scowl on his features. What kind of cruel joke was this? Why was he tempting the poor cat with human food? The galra looked around the kitchen, realizing there wasn’t a dispenser for pet food anywhere. Was it possible that he was serious? His left ear twitched mercilessly and he actually reached up and tried to stop it. “Never h-had any pe-people food. Not allowed.” 

Lance’s face fell. His stomach completely dropped to his toes. What kind of person seriously feeds other humanoids kibbles and bits? Typically, the cuban boy was a fairly easy going guy-- go with the flow, if you will-- but he was positive that he was going to knock Keith’s previous owner’s teeth down their throat given the chance. 

Swallowing back the words and sorries he wanted to spout, Lance just turned to Keith with a gentle smile. He silently promised to let this boy live and enjoy things as much as he possibly could. “Well, how about I just make scrambled eggs today, they are pretty easy on the stomach. If you like them, you can have as many as you want. We can try the different ways to make them later, okay?”

Keith’s tail thumped against the side of the couch as he felt excitement pool in the pit of his stomach. People food was only a treat for good pets. He must have really done something to please his owner. He couldn’t hide his own hopeful tone. “O-ka-okay.”

\--

Lance left after he had finished cleaning what little mess he’d made cooking breakfast. It was completely jarring to have to teach someone whom is roughly a year younger than you how to use a fork. Lance’s fingers twitched in his jacket pocket as he tried to just imagine not having that kind of muscle memory. How much did he truly take for granted in a day to say setting? 

His heart was heavy in his chest as he walked down the street, thankful that his campus wasn’t too far away. He could catch the shuttle bus for free, luckily. Pulling out his phone, Lance checked the time. 9:23am. He had plenty of time to make it to his lecture even if he missed the trolley. With a quick scroll through his contacts, Lance pressed his phone to his ear. He could be the annoying guy on the sidewalk that talked on his phone. He didn’t care right now.

After a few rings, the call connected and his mother’s sweet voice filled his senses. No matter just how down Lance was feeling, his mother could always make him feel better.  _ “Hello? Lance?” _

_ “Hi, mama. How are you feeling?”  _ He spoke softly, his native tongue pulling from his throat with ease. 

_ “Good, good, my baby boy. How is the city and your studies?”  _ She sounded like she had propped her phone on her shoulder rather than put him on speaker. God, there wasn’t anything he would do to have her here with him.

_ “Good, Mama. I’m… I’m a little over my head, though. I tried to do the right thing, but I’m scared I messed up.”  _ There was no sense in hiding it from her now; this had been why he had called after all.

_ “If you honestly tried your best then you did not fail, my love. Mistakes can be fixed. What happened?”  _ Her tone was warm and accepting. Lance was scared that he would actually start crying. Maybe he should skip the lecture and hope to get notes from someone in class. The brunette was always useless after he cried. 

_ “After I got off the phone with you last week, I… I found this boy, a uh, a Galra. He was so sick, mama. He was so burned from the sun and starved… His owner hurt him and treated him very badly… I took him home. I tried to save him!”  _ Lance’s heart was beating rapidly in his chest as he passed a shopping strip. People were moving around him and clearly minding their own business but he couldn’t help the anxiety that they were judging him. 

_ “That poor dear. Is he better now?” _

_ “I don’t… I don’t know. Hunk and Pidge helped me save him. We bandaged him up the best we could, he is going to have scars on his legs and neck now. His ear is messed up too… But, mama… He didn’t have a name! I asked him and he just told me a number like he was cattle! He had never had human food before now! I don’t know what I’m doing! I can’t be what he needs.”  _ Lance leaned against a building, his eyes closing. He tried to focus on the distinct smell of coffee in the air and the sound of his mother’s breath. 

_ “It sounds like you did the right thing, my child. Why are you worried that you didn’t?”  _ Her voice was gentle, clearly trying to coach him through his thoughts.

_ “I can’t give him the life he needs, mama. I can barely feed him. I’m not a therapist or anything like that. He acts like more of a cat than a human! I helped him learn how to use a fork today! I am not qualified to help him.”  _ Lance felt frantic, wanting to scream and shake. That wouldn’t solve any of his issues though. That would just draw unneeded attention to him.

He could almost hear the knowing smile in her voice.  _ “It sounds like you already started helping him, Lance. Baby steps are still fundamental to helping anyone feel better and whole. I am proud of you, my son. You did what you thought is right and you are continuing to do so even when you are clearly scared. You are amazing.”  _

_ “Mama,”  _ Lance sniffled; he had never been able to handle direct praise.  _ “Thank you. He lets me call him Keith. He had said his ‘number’ was k31. I couldn’t stand it. He may have cute ears and a tail but… he’s… he’s human. Just like me. He’s just like me, mama. I can’t not help him. He’s so scared of everything. His left ear is messed up too… but it’s still so cute. How could anyone be cruel and hurt anyone like that?! He was tied up and too scared to free himself.”  _

_ “Keith is a strong name. You are good, Lance. You are going to be good for him too. I will send you money later today once I can make it to the bank, yeah? Please get the boy some clothes and things for himself. It will help him more than you could imagine. It will help him solidify a place in this world for himself. I am glad that you found him and not someone else, even if you are scared, my love. You already care so deeply for him and want what is best for him. That is enough for me to know that you will take care of him and treat him right. The stars do not align for no reason, Lance. Remember that.”  _

_ “Yes, mama. I love you.” _

_ “I love you too. He can be registered and we will happily welcome him into our family, baby. One more is not a burden when it is out of love. Do please send me photos of you both when he is comfortable! You never send me enough photos!”  _ Her laugh made the shaking boy calm down tremendously. If Mama isn’t freaking out and not worrying out of her mind then he really must have done the right thing. Mother knows best.


	5. Two Hearted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. This chapter completely got away from me. I had a fully written out plotline for it. I made BULLET POINTS. 
> 
> but no.
> 
> Keith had to be a shit and do a thing. 
> 
> fuck.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys my pains and suffering. <3 My blog is [here](http://bluepalafin.tumblr.com) if you wanna come talk to me about galra Keith or dumb headcanons. I need friends in this fandom. c: 
> 
> Chapter is Inspired by: [Two Hearted by I See Stars.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwblmiwWBas&index=6&list=PLjbze5aGCE3VQHt8apNAwjrab0qpdO8Al)

Lance rotated his shoulders and let them pop after sitting his bag down on the carpet by his front door. The classroom had been loud and he was far, far too overstimulated to process anything his professor had said. Art History was actually incredibly interesting if you have the right teacher but Lance couldn’t get twitching cat ears and bushy tails out of his mind’s eye. He had only cared about getting home to make sure that Keith had kept his food down and to make sure his wounds were cleaned.

After talking to his mom, Lance felt exceptionally better. She just had a way of curbing the edges of his mind that no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t accomplish it himself. She texted him while he was on the way home, happily telling him that she had given him 150$ for getting Keith clothes and things he would need while adding that Lance needed to treat himself to something nice too. That alone had almost caused a second waterfall of emotion for the brunette. He knew finances were tight for his family back home and yet here they were, scrimping and saving to make sure that he was safe and taken care of. Lance couldn’t help but to pray that he could be half as loving and kind as his mother.

Moving into the living room, Lance noticed that Keith was laying in the floor again. The galra was curled up in front of the small window and had the small duvet that Lance had given him draped over him. His ears were relaxed and his knees seemed to be tucked under his chin. The very tip of the kitten’s solid black tail was poking out from underneath the blanket and it made the Cuban boy smile. Lance hunkered down, watching Keith for a moment, enjoying how soft and delicate he looked while sleeping. There was a sense of serenity in his features that just wasn’t there when he was awake. 

No matter how cute he looked though, Lance knew he would have to wake Keith up and change the bandage on the back of his neck before Hunk and Pidge got there. He reached forward, fingers almost grazing the galra’s hair before he decided that maybe touching his arm would be better. Lance wouldn’t have liked it if he was woken up by someone grabbing for his hair. 

“Hey, buddy,” Lance gently shook Keith’s arm. “Kitty cat, wake up, yeah?”

Keith’s entire body went ridged under Lance’s touch as those bright yellow eyes shot open. The galra jerked his body away before even registering where he was and Keith panted slightly, clearly frightened. A deep noise rumbled in his throat before his gaze trained onto Lance. His entire stature went slack and his tail tucked against his side, almost completely buried in the blanket that was tangled around his legs. Keith shifted awkwardly, forcibly putting himself closer to the latino boy. His head was bowed.

“S-so-sorry.” Keith’s voice was barely audible with his head down like that. He spoke to his knees rather than Lance.

The human tilted his head, confused at the whirlwind of emotion that passed over Keith’s face. A little unsure, Lance reached over and brushed his fingers through the kitten’s hair, thumb gliding over the base of his right ear. A navy flush splashed over Keith’s face and he bit at his bottom lip. He looked almost terrified to enjoy a small comfort. Lance’s heart couldn’t take it as he pulled away. Keith looked like he was going to headbutt his hand like a real cat. 

There was a soft layer of affection cushioning Lance’s voice as he kept his eyes trained on the Galra. “Hey, I’m sorry I scared you; I didn’t mean to. Remember what I said earlier? Hunk and Pidge wanna take us to get some food. Lot’s of food, and you can choose whatever you want. We are going to stop and get you some clothes too. Are you up for that?”

Keith nodded silently, still staring holes into his thighs. He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth and his ears drooped. It was like he was waiting for something. Lance shifted, moving just a fraction closer to the galra before reaching forward slowly. He made sure that Keith could see his movements clearly before gently cupping the boy’s chin in his hand. 

Lance gently guided Keith’s face to look up and meet his gaze. Those fiercely golden eyes were almost mesmerizing. “Please look at me. Your eyes are too pretty to hide behind all of that hair and a sad expression.” 

His thumb lightly pet over Keith’s sharp cheekbone and couldn’t stop the way his heart melted when the catboy leaned into the touch. “If you aren’t feeling up to venturing out into the world, I can call Pidge and Hunk. We can stay inside. It’s up to you.” 

Keith blinked, trying to process what he was being told. Lance wasn’t just ordering him to do something? This human was confusing and weird. Humans weren’t supposed to be this kind and gentle with a throw away pet. What did Lance want? Haggar said that she had only ever been treated nicely if…  _ Oh _ .

It felt like there was cotton in Keith’s mouth. He watched Lance’s face; that soft expression on his features tugged at Keith’s stomach. The boy felt like he could almost trust those deep blue eyes and slightly rosey cheeks. Sharp cheekbones framed Lance’s face, letting Keith’s eyes fall to plush, soft looking lips. Straightening his back, Keith swallowed; this felt like it could have ended worse. 

Before he could stop himself, the cat surged forward and pressed his lips to Lance’s. The kiss was hesitant and dry, Keith’s nervous nature obvious in his movements. Lance didn’t pull away; this must have been what he wanted. Keith’s ears fluttered gently as he tilted his head, moving his lips slowly and silently praying that Lance would be gentle with him. His body still hurt. 

Lance was struck stupid. There was a small, shaking  _ cat boy _ kissing him. This shouldn’t have made Lance’s stomach feel as warm as it did and he hated himself for it. He grabbed at Keith’s shoulders and pulled away, shock evident on his face. He was speaking before he could register the words.“Wh-what? What the hell was that?” 

Keith’s mouth fell open and his lips looked slightly swollen from the pressure of the kiss. He opened his mouth, his bottom lip quivering. He started talking to his knees again, his fingers gripping into the afghan still draped over his calves. “Y-you… n-ni-nice? S’wh-what is supposed to ha-h-happen? I-I can be good, s-sir. Wh-what ever you want. Don’t pu-put me back outside!” 

Lance couldn’t hide the frown fast enough. His shoulders slumped and he did the only thing that even remotely made sense to him. He let his grip slack and gently guided Keith forward into a hug. He held the smaller boy, careful to not hurt him anywhere. “No, that’s not… You don’t  _ owe _ me anything, Keith. As far as I’m concerned, you aren’t my pet. You aren’t my  _ toy _ either. You are a person, you belong to yourself.”

Keith furrowed his brow, utterly and hopelessly confused. Lance’s body was radiating warmth, though. His ears perked slightly, a prickle of pain raising in his left ear. He wanted to believe Lance? No other human had ever said anything like that to him or any other galra he’d ever known. Even Haggar, who worked alongside humans every day… she always told horror stories of how they treated her. The cat pressed his forehead to Lance’s shoulder selfishly taking advantage of the human’s body heat. “St-stay?”

Lance relaxed. He felt his heart soar when Keith relaxed. “You can absolutely stay. No matter what. I want to help you. Kisses and things like that are supposed to be things for people you like and care for, not as payment for human decency. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to; especially anything to do with your body.” 

Keith felt like his brain was short circuiting. This human had to be as defective as he was. It let a small spark of hope flicker in his chest despite everything else, though. He could stay with Lance and just… be? No more fights? No more heat favors? This had to be a dream. “Thank y-you.” 

Lance nodded, shifting so that he could look at Keith in the face. “You’re more than welcome, kitty cat. I’m… I’m going to touch your ears, is that okay? Does it hurt if I do?”

Keith shook his head and leaned forward, inviting Lance to touch as much as he liked. The human wanted to ask about the obvious scar tissue along Keith’s left ear but he felt like that was a topic for another time. They both felt beyond raw and exhausted. Lance scritched his fingers along the soft fur, memorizing the shape and texture. It tickled when Keith would shift his ears under his palm. 

Lance let his hand fall naturally to his side and smiled faintly at the kitten. They were a bit of a mess, weren’t they? The two of them were sitting in the living room floor, sprawled over each other. Keith had even kissed him! Why wasn’t the cuban boy more upset about that? He couldn’t bring himself to care though. As long as Keith wasn’t plagued with demons of his past, it didn’t truly matter.

“So what do you say? Do you wanna go get some new clothes and yummy food?” Lance smiled toothily, watching the way Keith’s ears perked tall with interest. 

“I-if…you...” Keith’s nose wrinkled as he studied Lance’s face. He swallowed before giving a sharp nod. “Y-yes, I do.”

Lance’s cheeks twinged in pain from how hard he was smiling. This really was a good thing, wasn’t it? He moved to stand up, affectionately patting Keith’s legs. “Alright. That’s great. Let’s get you dressed in some clean clothes. Pidge and Hunk will be here in about fifteen to twenty minutes.”

Keith nodded and stood up after the other boy. His toes flexed into the material of his borrowed blanket, a spike of anxiety washing over him. They were going to leave. He didn’t have a collar. Stamping that down, the galra nervously followed his companion. Lance had beckoned for him, hadn’t he? Keith felt like his head was getting murky again.

The art student let Keith into his room, directing him to sit on the bed. This made Keith feel weird. What if he shed? Pets weren’t allowed on furniture, didn’t everyone know that? Lance was… Lance as different though, wasn’t he? The galra shifted awkwardly, eventually shifting down and sitting on the floor. He propped his back up against the side of the mattress. 

“Uh, I don’t really have shoes that could work with your feet. We should definitely look into getting you some today, but… uh. I can show you some shirts and see what you like? You’re pretty small so just about everything I own will be loose on you.” Lance was rambling as he started sifting through all of the hangers in his closet. Keith had literal purple skin; would that clash with certain colors? Let’s maybe not put him in yellow. 

Lance tossed a pair of black joggers on the bed, figuring they would be small enough to fit Keith’s frame. He pulled away from the closet, holding up a few shirts to choose from. “You can put those on. I have uh, some tank tops that would likely fit you? Flannel maybe?” 

Keith nodded softly, taking in the options. This was a little more normal for him. The handlers had always let him choose the outfits he wore out. He looked through the selections Lance had made for him and scratched at the back of his neck. He liked the feeling of the plaid shirt against his skin and the deep blue wasn’t jarring on his eyes. “Th-that one?” 

“Glorious. I’ll let you change in here, I’ll wait in the living room. Take your time.” Lance smiled as he handed over the clothing.

Keith nodded and Lance shut the door behind him. Pulling out his phone, he texted Hunk. 

_ I think I might be in trouble. _


	6. There's a Class for This.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!! I'm honestly a little proud of myself guys. I procrastinated on this chapter so hard bc of Adult Life(TM) errands and a bit of depression but I'm actually going to San Francisco tomorrow and I didn't want to leave you guys without anything new! So I managed to sit down and crank this out in like an hour to two hours after I (finally) focused. I'm exhausted. xD (I'm horribly sorry if my quality dropped.)
> 
> But you guys spoil me with so, so many kind words and such a genuine interest in this story, I couldn't just not give you something! Please enjoy this chapter<3 We are finally going to start touching on the actual plot of the fic really soon and I'm so so so excited for that! 8D If you wanna talk to me (please do, seriously. I love getting messages from everyone!) or discuss my fic/maybe RP my blog is [here!](http://bluepalafin.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Inspiration for this Chapter: [ There is a Class for This by Cute is What We Aim For. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oP-WT3apPwA&index=7&list=PLjbze5aGCE3VQHt8apNAwjrab0qpdO8Al)

The California sun was sweltering despite it being so close to Halloween. Lance fanned himself with his hand, secretly more than happy to deal with this heat rather than the humid death trap that is Florida. He looked over to Keith as they walked down the street, curious as to how he felt about the climate. Did galra react the same way humans did? Were the pants and plaid shirt he’d borrowed too much for him in this kind of heat?

Keith’s ears twitched with interest when he noticed his owner staring at him. He blinked, trying to figure out if he’d done something to warrant attention. Was there something on him? Had he not been walking fast enough? The cat boy pursed his lips slightly and tried not to squint. The daytime sun was murder on his senses.

Lance gave the hybrid a toothy grin and kept walking. Pidge and Hunk had told them to head to the bus stop on the corner and they could just take the Metro to the Fashion Center. He stepped in line with Keith, wanting to do anything he could to keep the other’s anxiety down. The galra was walking carefully with his head bowed, each step seeming to be made with purpose. Was Keith still feeling low from earlier?

Lance’s entire being seemed to vibrate with excitement when he could see Hunk’s messy mop of black hair. He took a fleeting glance to Keith and smiled before running the few feet of distance. He took a mighty, and literal leap of faith, knowing the husky Filipino boy would catch him or fall trying. Maybe he took advantage of that trust a little too much.

“Hunk! My beautiful baby boy, I’ve missed you!”

Hunk laughed bashfully and swung Lance around like they were experiencing a lover’s reunion after a war drove them apart. They were complete idiots. The broader of the two grinned and put Lance down on his feet. He moved so that Pidge could great the two newcomers and watched Keith with the same beaming smile.

“Hey, Keith, you look like you feel better! And, you uh, you’re wearing Lance’s clothes! They look good on you!” Hunk was itching to scoop the galra up in a hug too but he didn’t trust himself to not scare or hurt the smaller boy.

Keith blinked owlishly, his mouth feeling like it was full of cotton. He glanced at Lance, unsure if he was allowed to answer for himself or if the other would on his behalf. Overlarge purple ears were straight up in interest at the attention, though. He enjoyed being _noticed_. His tongue darted out and wet his lips, giving another strong look to Lance before looking at the ground near Hunk’s feet.

“Th-thank you, h-he let me, uh,” Keith’s fingers twitched almost like he was physically tempted to grab words out of the air and string them together. “P-pi-pick? F-fed me yellow squ-squishy stuff too.”

Pidge arched her brow at Lance, clearly skeptical. Lance’s face flushed; “I made eggs and toast for breakfast before I ran to my lecture. He seemed to like them.”

Keith nodded silently, still staring a hole into the cement by Hunk’s feet. His ears folded when a gust of wind struck his face. The smell of motor oil and gasoline was heavy in the air as the Metro bus pulled up. He instinctively reached up and tried to flush his hair up around his defective ear, not wanting any other humans to think that Lance owned something so broken.

Pidge nudged Hunk closer to the bus, pulling out her own Metro card. She tapped it against the machine to pay her toll and Hunk followed suit. Lance watched Keith’s facial features for a moment before lightly touching his arm. “We are gonna get on the bus, okay? Go climb on and sit with Pidge an’ Hunk. I’ll take care of the fare.”

The kitten nodded slightly, swallowing back the lump in his throat. He stepped onto the bus, feeling the sandpaper-like grit against the pads of his toes. It felt disgusting. People were openly staring at him and it was making him want to hyperventilate. Was he doing something wrong? His human told him to get on! Before Keith to move to walk down the aisle, the driver’s thick forearm blocked his path and it made him yelp.

“Pet’s aren’t allowed on the bus without a collar an’ leash or a carrier.” The man’s voice was gruff like he smoked at least a pack of cigarettes a day. Lance’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“What do you mean, pets aren’t allowed? I just paid both of our fares!” The Cuban boy’s shoulders squared and an intense rage seemed to pool into his stomach at the way Keith shook at being reprimanded.

“I don’t make the rules, kid. It’s a new policy.” The Metro driver’s voice was deadpan and loud, clearly not scared to spread their business across the bus to absolute strangers.

“That’s bullshit. You couldn’t tell us that before I paid you? We are literally trying to get to a store to _buy_ him a collar and I don’t fucking appreciate you scaring him half to death and talking like he isn’t even standing there!” A muscle in Lance’s cheek twitched and he only grew louder the he got.

Keith cowered, wanting the world to swallow him. He should have just died in that shitty park. He wouldn’t be putting Lance through this and embarrassing him so badly. His shoulders trembled and his tail tip flickered as he tried to find anything that could possibly ground him. He was panicking.

Hunk stood up and walked up to the driver, a friendly smile on his face. Lance knew that look though. The way his best friend’s eyes sparkled, there was nothing but venom coursing his veins. “Hello, sir. I just checked the Metro’s website and I’ll have you know that there is no such policy against galra. This boy, you see, isn’t a dog or a lizard of some kind. He has every right to use this public service. I suggest you let him board your bus since his fare has already been paid or I will report you to your management. I assume your ID number has been posted on today’s bus route schedule?”

Pidge gave a quick wolf whistle as the rest of the passengers broke out into varied whispered opinions. Keith was gripping into the bottom of his shirt and it looked like the button closest to his hands was going to fly off at any moment. Lance swallowed and gently reached over to touch Keith’s wrist, trying to ease his grip. The shirt was the least of the human’s worries; Keith looked like he was going to pass out.

“Just fuckin’ sit down already. You kids are throwin’ me off schedule. That filthy _thing_ isn’t allowed on the seats though. No pets are, tubby.” The driver snapped the doors of the bus shut, his irritation more than a little obvious.

_Thing._

Lance’s right hand twitched, amazed at his own self restraint. Maybe in another place or another time, he would have punched that greasy motherfucker in the face. That seemed to quell the blood lust clouding his judgment for the moment and he guided Keith to the deep interior of the bus. Keith was more important; if Lance was thrown in jail or anything stupid like that then he would be on his own. The human just couldn’t take that level of guilt. Lance sat down on the bench seat usually on reserve for senior citizens so that he could stay close to Pidge and Hunk as they sat in the first row of two seaters.

Keith fidgeted as he stood, His toes feeling uncomfortable on the rigid lining of the bus’s flooring. He could handle it, though. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. Shifting from foot to foot, the galra boy almost fell over when the bus lurked away from the curb. His tail wrapped around his leg to keep any violent twitching down to a minimum. He wanted to be good, he didn’t want to accidentally hit anyone.

“Keith,” Pidge spoke softly, trying not to startle him when he was already on pins and needles. “Sit in Lance’s lap so you don’t fall over, okay? We don’t want you getting hurt.”

Lance nodded, feeling stupid for not thinking of it first. He opened his arms and let the galra move at his own pace. Keith was all knees and elbows as he situated himself, nothing graceful about his actions whatsoever. It was still oddly heartwarming to Lance. He helped Keith sit sideways, a solid but gentle hand on his side to keep him from falling or moving too much. Relaxing into the rather stiff backing, Lance lifted his free hand and studied Keith’s facial features. “Can I pet your ears?”

The cat’s ears flicked at the mention and he nodded, bowing his head. Lance had light callouses at the very tips of his fingers and the sensations felt nice on tender flesh. The motions helped Keith’s mind calm down. This… was this what it meant to be comfortable?

\--

Lance grit his teeth so hard that he was positive he could bite an industrial nail in half. He just wanted to get his new roommate clothes! He wanted to have a fun night out with friends and show Keith that not all humans are grade A assholes, but fuck him, right? Was it “Destroy Lance’s Faith in Humanity” Day or something? ...Were people always this shitty when it came to galra and he’d just never noticed?

They had been kicked out of two different boutiques with a stale excuse of “No Pets Allowed”. Keith had legitimately started tearing up and hiding behind Lance’s shoulder when one of the cashiers had suggested tying Keith up outside of the store front while the human did the shopping. Hunk had needed to literally and physically remove Lance from the situation while Pidge had to reiterate that the poor girl had no idea how awful that statement was to the current situation. Lance could only assume he was now banned from shopping there ever again.

“We can try a thrift shop? They tend to have a more lax policy on uh, these kinds of things?” Hunk was walking behind Lance and Keith as Pidge lead the group along. He felt it necessary to keep a buffer between Lance and that last store no matter the distance they’d traveled.

Keith hadn’t spoken a word since the bus incident. There was a pained expression across his features and his eyes still looked glossy from almost shed tears. He scratched at his neck, the skin feeling too bare. He needed a collar to be outside. Why didn’t Lance give him a collar? Was he not planning to keep him? Were they taking him to a shelter?

Lance was mentally and physically exhausted. He couldn’t even fathom what Keith was feeling like at the moment. He looked over at his kitten and tried to sound light. “Well, kitty cat, what do you say to getting some food? I’m starving.”

“We should go to that ramen shop next to the place that sells boba.” Pidge offered her suggestion as she fought with her hair, trying to get it in a ponytail. The sun was finally setting but that didn’t mean that they were lucky enough for the heat to go with it. The valley was kind of terrible in that resolve.

“That sounds delicious. We haven’t eaten there since the beginning of the semester.” Hunk felt a little more chipper at the mention of the restaurant. He loved japanese food and the ramen was always fairly cheap for the high quality and sheer volume that you get. He never had to worry about Lance not eating when he got home if they could gorge themselves on a feast like that.

The quartet made it to the small shop give or take five minutes later. The waitress didn’t even take a second glance at Keith as she showed them to a table and took their drink order. Lance made a note to definitely take Keith here more often if he liked the food.

Once the menus were distributed, Hunk had decided that he definitely wanted the katsu donburi this time around instead of the noodle soup. Pidge seemed to want to keep it simple with pork ramen and Lance followed suit. There was a sudden cold falling on the group when everyone realized that the galra hadn’t even picked up the menu.

Keith was sitting in the chair, tail twitching rapidly against his thigh. Why was he sitting as high as the humans? Why had they let him in this restaurant? What if he got hair in the food? What the hell was this plastic thing the lady had handed him? Why was everyone staring at him? He had spaced out, his mind firing off far too rapidly to make any sense. Had he been talking out his thoughts again? Why did their gazes feel like they burned his skin?

“Did you decide what you wanted to eat, Keith?” Pidge attempted to prompt the cat, showing him that he was absolutely allowed food and the ability to make his own selection. She reached over and opened his menu for him. “Just pick something from this and you can see if you like it.”

Keith looked down at the black and white laminated paper and his ears twitched. He couldn’t read this. He couldn’t read anything, if he was to be honest with himself. Swallowing, he just tapped on one of the random lines of dark text. Lance and Pidge both had instantly noticed that he hadn’t read anything on the page. That was the drinks section.

It had never once occurred to Lance that someone could grow up and not learn how to read. He shifted closer to the kitten, looking over the menu. “We already ordered drinks, big cat. Why don’t… why don’t you try the pork ramen with me and see if you like it? It has soup, delicious noodles, and even more eggs like we had for breakfast, yeah?”

“If you th-think that’s bes-best, S...Lance.” Keith’s voice was weak, his throat raw from far, far too many thoughts and emotions. He was awful as a pet. He couldn’t even leave the house without being overstimulated and causing trouble.

Lance’s eyes widened and he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He spared a glance to Hunk and Pidge to verify what he’d just heard. That had been the first time his name had ever graced the galra’s lips and it had absolutely no right sounding that nice in his melancholy tenor. Lance would go to war for this boy.


	7. The Bird and The Worm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sc reams into the fucking void. I'm finally done with this arc of the story and I can move forward OTL . I've been trying to wrap this up since chapter 5 but they kept getting in the way and throwing more plot at me. These two are menaces. Even Spider-Man isn't this bad. Jesus. 
> 
> But none the less, I'm super excited to update again![here](http://bluepalafin.tumblr.com/) is my blog if you want to just say hi or tell me your headcanons you have for these idiots c: 
> 
> I also created a playlist to go with this story. I update it with every song the next chapter is based on. c:  
> Chapter Inspired by: [ The Bird and The Worm by The Used](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-uvJcwckf7w&index=8&list=PLjbze5aGCE3VQHt8apNAwjrab0qpdO8Al)

Thrift stores were quickly becoming Lance’s favorite places to go when forced outside of his own home. Despite the entire store consisting of clothes and old furniture, there was a heavy smell of antique books in the air. Keith had walked around with a wrinkled nose for five minutes before relaxing into the atmosphere as best he could. Lance would be lying to himself if he tried to say that he didn’t stick close to the galra, not wanting Keith to get lost or harassed by someone else. Lance’s tightly wound nerves could only take so many altercations in one afternoon.

Keith didn’t like straying too far from his handler. He was exhausted and Lance’s friends kept giving him strange looks. The other two, Hunk and Pidge, would stare and their brows would crinkle in what he could only assume was sympathy and it made the galra’s skin crawl. Everything felt far too much like pity and it made bile rise in the back of his throat.

Why were they even here? The catboy could vaguely remember Lance saying he needed new clothes… was Keith supposed to pick them out himself or wait for his master to do it for him? His fingers bore into his neck, scratching at the exposed skin. It felt wrong to be out without a collar. He didn’t want the latino boy to get in trouble over him. The scabbing around his throat didn’t help with the itching.

Wide yellow eyes stared at the brunette, Keith’s body angled towards the human. He opened his mouth but words just didn’t seem to want to come out. Their stares seemed to cross paths and Lance’s face softened.

“Do you see anything you like? I can help you find some things.”

“C-collar!” Keith’s voice cracked with the force of the word. His ears drooped when he realized how loudly he spoke.

“A collar? You don’t…” Lance’s brow furrowed and he shifted from foot to foot. Did galra actually have to wear collars like dogs? He chewed at the meat of his cheek slightly, glancing between Keith and a rack of yellow shirts. It was so neat how everything was organized by color in this store. “You don’t have to wear a collar if you don’t want to, ya know? You’re not a _pet,_ Keith.”

“Y-you…” Keith’s tail swished, the boy finding it difficult to grasp the words he wanted. “I-I gotta… ga-galra have to…”

Lance swallowed, completely confused over the feelings boiling over in his stomach. Was that really the law? Didn’t that shitty bus driver say something about a collar? Keith clearly hadn’t been treated properly by his old owner… Was that legitimately the law or just horrific conditioning? Lance felt sour at the thought that he had to seriously guess at this point.

It didn’t hurt to indulge the kitten though, did it? If this little thing, even if somewhat unhealthy, made Keith feel just a fraction more comfortable in his own skin then it could at the very least be a good thing... Right? With a soft sigh, Lance nodded. “Alright, we can see if they have something that will work for you, alright? You can pick out anything that you want. This is your decision.”

The two boys moved out of the clothing section and Lance guided Keith gently towards the front case where the store kept necklaces and other more expensive trinkets. Hunk was beside them, drooling over a dusty looking Nintendo 64 console. The Cuban boy wasn’t sure how to go about it delicately so he just took a deep breath and jumped in head first. “Hey, uh, Hunk… Can you google if galra have to wear collars in public?”

“Yeah dude, I’m pretty sure they do. There was this huge protest about it on campus like, three months ago?” Hunk was already grabbing for his phone so that he could fact check himself.

“As of the UN’s decision that Galra… Uh,” Hunk’s face flushed and he focused harder on his phone, refusing to look at Keith as he read the article. It seemed wrong to openly speak about something’s status as a human being or not right in front of them; especially when the said intelligent thing didn’t have the right to join the conversation or decision making. He scrolled through the web page, swallowing. “In the state of California, a p… galra must wear a collar with the owner’s tags and be up to date at all times. This law went into effect as of January, 2015.”

Lance felt like there were cotton balls stuck in his throat. His soul hurt for the smaller boy beside him. Maybe he should have paid more attention to the protests going around on campus… Squaring his shoulders, Lance took a deep inhale. “Alright, we need to get that done then.”

He turned to Keith with a gentle smile. It was a complete facade. He wanted nothing more than to scream into the void. What in the ever loving fuck had he gotten himself into? “If you don’t like any of the collars here, we can go somewhere else and get one, okay? Don’t feel like you have to settle. I don’t care about the price, if you have to wear it, I want you to like it, okay?”

Keith nodded gently, unable to look Lance in the eye. He didn’t like the nervous energy that was vibrating around the brunette. Hunkering down, Keith hugged at his knees to balance himself. The display case was full of different kinds of knick knacks but on the bottom row there was a small rack of collars that looked suitable for a galra. He tapped against the glass slightly, directing Lance’s attention.

Hunk watched the two for a second, almost cooing at the way Lance gently placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder. This seemed almost intimate in a weird way and honestly, the chubby boy didn’t want to spoil that. Keith was good for Lance and Christ knows Keith needed all of the love and warmth he could get. Thankfully, that was exactly what Lance had surplus of. Cleaning his hands needlessly on his cargo pants, Hunk silently motioned that he was going to check something else out and set off to find out where the hell Pidge went.

The counter attendant smiled at the couple when she pulled the display out so they could get a better look. There were are few standard threaded collars that looked like they once belonged to giant mastiff dogs and a few more slim leather ones. Lance ran his fingers over the different ones, never really being able to resist touching anything new or exciting. This really wasn’t his decision though, and he stood by that. If Keith didn’t like any of these, Lance would happily drop the cash on something he would like. A leash law was ridiculous as it was, but the humiliation of not even having the choice of what it looked or felt like?

Keith looked between Lance and the neckwear, that intense feeling of exposure creeping up his spine again. He swallowed and reached forward, a really soft, worn looking leather strap feeling pleasant against his fingertips. He picked it up and sized it to his neck. He took a quick breath and nodded, “Th-this one. N-not pretty, but soft. Small. Good. Real good.”

Lance shifted and took the collar from Keith with a gentle hand. He checked the price tag, shocked to see that it was only a few bucks. This was absolutely more than doable if this was what the other boy truly wanted. His thumb glided over the buckle and smiled lightly. Of course Keith would pick something small and cheap, easily hideable. That was how he lived his entire life, wasn’t it? “We can definitely get this one, let's look and see if there are any others you like too, yeah? No one said you had to wear the same one every day.”

Lance’s heart swelled when Keith gave him a look of unadulterated confusion. His head had even tilted like a cat watching light reflect against a wall. Those over-large ears arched and Keith ruffled his hair nervously. “Y-you sure?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, Keith.” The answer pulled from Lance’s throat with such an ease. It was utterly true. No matter what he wanted to do, Lance couldn’t bring himself to lie to the galra. Keith had far too many issues with authority or even dealing with reality to be able to handle someone being dishonest or flat out lying to him. It would just be a disservice to the both of them.

It looked like Keith was going to hesitate or argue for a moment but he just let his ears flicker. He swallowed lightly, eyes boring into the display case to avoid Lance’s gaze. “C-can I… Can I wear th-that one now?”

Lance felt himself grin so hard that his cheeks hurt. He shouldn’t have been happy about the kitten asking to literally wear a mark of ownership, but Keith had actually _asked_ _for something_. After the long, drawn out day that they’d both had, that was nothing if not progress. He turned the collar over in his hand and nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’ll help you put it on. Lift your hair for me please? I don’t wanna get it caught in the buckle.”

If the cashier really had a problem with it, Lance would just pay for it before everything else; he wanted to see that small sparkle of contentment racing over Keith’s face. A small curved smile pulled on the purple boy’s mouth and he shifted to turn his back to Lance, lifting his hair. The light scarring and scabs from the previous week were incredibly evident with the tufts of black hair out of the way and Lance swallowed hard. A raging fire of contempt and anger rose in his chest but he knew better than to feed it. That wouldn’t help Keith in any way.

Lance’s fingers were nimble and delicate, brushing along violet flesh before roping the collar around to secure it. His eyes widened when he noticed the goosebumps raising along the nape of Keith’s neck. Was he really this excited over a collar? All of that righteous fury and heat seemed to drop like a stone into the Cuban boy’s stomach. His lips parted, a vivid memory of Keith’s kiss tingling against his mouth. This was fucked up, wasn’t it? He shouldn’t think of a catboy like that, should he?

That kiss couldn’t have even truly been considered consensual; Keith had acted out of fear and confusion. He thought that he needed to use his body as payment for Lance being _nice_ to him. How utterly fucked up was that? How deplorable did that make Lance that he wanted to kiss the galra again? It would have to be truly consensual and under better circumstances of course, but that didn’t stop the feeling of desire.

Keith let go of his hair and turned his head to look at Lance, a soft expression resting in his eyes. Large, purple furred ears twitched and brushed against the human’s wrists. “Th-thank you. How does it lo-ook?”

Lance’s eyes trailed over that small bit of leather, his cheeks flared. He found his voice after a moment. “I like it. It suits you, as much as something you have to wear can.”

The galra’s entire demeanor seemed to perk up and his tail swished happily behind him. It seemed like praise went a long way for this little kitten. Lance was going to have to keep that fun little fact in the back of his mind. He reached forward and ruffled Keith’s hair, fingertips lightly brushing over the soft fur of his ears. “Let’s focus on clothes now though; I can’t have you cutting tail holes in all of my jeans.”

Almost as if Pidge took her cue, the fiery brunette marched up to them with a stack of clothes in her hands and Hunk trailing behind her. There were a few normal looking pairs of jeans and sweaters but Lance could see the hideous patterns and bright fuchsia hiding among the pile. “Hunk and I took the liberty of picking out some things Keith would look dazzling in.”

Lance’s eyebrows raised, his entire being soaked in skepticism. “Go on.”

To his friends’ credit, they had found a lot of basics that the new addition to their group would legitimately need like pajama bottoms and a few nice looking pairs of jeans. Keith had nodded towards a few of the t-shirts with a little bit of coaxing and they all found their way into the “keep” pile. The galra was sitting on the ground, sifting through the pile of clothing, finding this far easier than walking around the store to pick for himself. It felt like he was going through Lance’s closet back at his apartment.

Tugging at a red sleeve near the bottom of the stack, a small squeak left the kitten’s mouth. Everything had tumbled over onto his legs and scattered around him, leaving the galra clinging to a somewhat tacky looking crop top jacket. The material was soft under his fingers and the mixture of white and red seemed to calm a deep recess of his mind. Keith picked it up and examined it further before ultimately nuzzling his face into the fabric. Hunk couldn’t stop himself from cooing loudly. Pidge broke out into a fit of giggles but seemed legitimately pleased that she had found something that Keith genuinely enjoyed.

Lance watched Keith, his heart melting all over again. God, this boy was going to be the death of him. No one should ever be allowed to be that cute while holding the tackiest piece of clothing the world has ever seen. Lance knew he was in too deep but he didn’t mind sinking a few more feet if that meant seeing this scared and mistreated kitten as happy as he was holding that ugly jacket. The fashion police were just going to have to let some things slide.


	8. Yellow King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did the math, and roughly 850 people read each chapter of this fic. That is fucking mind blowing. You guys are all wonderful and I wish I could do something more for you all! ALSO, AS OF TODAY THIS FIC IS OFFICIALLY ONE MONTH OLD.
> 
> Eight chapters in a month isn't too bad, i don't think. ;3 Have this chapter earlier than expected as a celebration piece. It also begins the main plot of the fic~
> 
> I love you guys so much! All of the kind messages and comments really fuel me to want to get this story out more and more. Please talk to me at my blog [ here](http://bluepalafin.tumblr.com/) if you wanna talk headcanons about this fic or in general. u3u I love talking about these idiots. 
> 
> Chapter Inspired by: [ Yellow King by I See Stars](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AmicHgzvGfs&list=PLjbze5aGCE3VQHt8apNAwjrab0qpdO8Al&index=9)

_ To Do List:  _

_ Go to Class - check _

_ Check the mail; Mama sent a package - Check; no package _

_ Pick up the paper clay special ordered from Michael’s - check _

_ Get home; make sure Keith eats - On the way home now. _

Lance walked down the street, his backpack slung over his shoulder. There was a nice breeze in the air which was a blessing after the constant assault of dry heat and the radio had even said that there was a chance of rain within the week! Sure, he wasn’t exactly homesick for hurricane season but it was just completely unnatural to just  _ not _ have rain. Droughts were weird and Lance wasn’t a fan of deserts. Why had he decided to move literally across the country to attend college? Sure, this was where Hunk and Pidge had decided to go too, but… What was here for him? He never was one of those starry eyed kids dreaming of living in Los Angeles and dancing along the Sunset Strip and yet, here he was. 

_ The stars don’t align for no reason, Lance. Remember that. _

Lance almost lost his footing when his mother’s voice flooded his senses. That couldn’t have been it, could it? Some celestial fuckery decided that he needed to be in Los Angeles, drowning in student debt and barely scraping by, just so he could meet a galra with a twitchy ear? A heavy sort of feeling seemed to sink into his stomach when Lance let himself think about their first encounter. No one else had even taken a second glance at Keith tethered to that bike rack. Would Keith even be alive today if Lance hadn’t decided to follow his best friends to university? Lance wouldn’t have cared one way or the other if he’d stayed in Florida, would he? It wasn’t like he’d ever met a galra on a personal level before Keith.

The brunette almost choked on the bile rising in his throat. He didn’t want to think about it. Keith was at home, Lance’s home, safe and healing. Star crossed bullshit or not, the important thing was that the galra really was alive and well. His fingers itched to grab for his phone, wanting to text or call Keith to make sure he was okay. The cat didn’t have a phone though; there was absolutely no way they could afford it. The only way Lance could even keep his sadly out of date iphone was because he had been locked into his father’s family plan. 

There was a nasty taste in Lance’s mouth. He didn’t want to think about alternate possibilities or a time when Keith wasn’t safe with him. That shit could stay in the past, lost to every history book. He shifted his pack, putting the other strap on. The brunette was coming up on the boba shop and he had a few extra bits of change in his pocket thanks to thrifting for Keith’s clothes. Maybe he could get a little treat for himself and his favorite kitten. 

The small shop was incredibly busy, some song with heavy bass pumping through the speakers. Despite the crowd, there was a strange sense of tranquility through the tea house. Different groups were off on their own either on laptops or playing what looked like Jenga. A couple on the sofa by the window even had a copy of a Bleach manga and poured over it. This atmosphere helped Lance shed all of the negativity and bad vibes he tended to catch himself in. Comforting crowds really where his jam. 

When Lance made it to the front of the line, he ordered himself a caramel milk tea and a black and white for Keith. He didn’t know how the galra would react to tea or tapioca pearls for that matter, so it seemed safer to get him the oreo shake. With his card punched, Lance stepped to the side and watched his order be made. The drink seals were cartoon pictures of cats and flowers today; it was adorable. The whole process made Lance feel a bit better. It was ordinary and routine, something he knew.

The rest of the walk home made Lance feel lighter, almost excited to charge forward and deal with his homework and the rest of the night. He took the stairs to his hall, not wanting to worry with the near broken elevator. His entire body practically melted as his door unlocked and swung open. 

“Keith? I'm home!” 

The TV was on the same news station that Lance had been watching while he ate breakfast, now showing some trashy daytime talk show. The noise was soft but a constant. He stepped into the living room after kicking off his shoes and almost melted. 

Keith was in the floor, back propped against the sofa. The afghan that Lance had found at a yard sale was draped loosely around the frail cat and that hideous red jacket that Keith had grown attached to was under his head like a pillow. Keith was out cold, a very delicate snore rumbling in his chest every few breaths. Lance felt like he was almost stuck in time, watching the kitten sleep. 

Lance almost choked when he remembered the last time he’d attempted to wake Keith up after coming home. He shifted awkwardly, sitting the drinks down on the table. Even weeks later, the brunette could feel that pin prickle of contact from Keith’s clumsy kiss. The way his canines had pressed to Lance’s bottom lip in a way that hadn’t quite hurt but was clearly unskilled. Lance hated himself for even letting it have a resting place in the back of his mind. The last thing Keith needed was to deal with Lance’s idiotic want for physical affection. 

Those bushy ears and the twitching tail sure made the thought process awkward though, didn’t it? Lance shouldn’t find himself attracted to someone with cat features, right? Sure, Keith had the body of a human but… that was still really weird, right? Lance swallowed, his gaze drifting to Keith’s sleeping face. His features were soft and his jaw almost impossibly sharp. Keith’s cheekbones were still intensely noticeable despite Hunk’s constant need to feed him but his cheeks weren’t near hollow anymore.

Keith’s skin was still dusted a dark navy but Lance had found out quickly that the galra simply had freckles. They were precious and seemed to cover his entire body from sun exposure. A heavy cluster seemed to splatter across Keith’s slender nose and hopelessly drew attention to the kitten’s rather full lips. Lance knew for a fact that Keith had pouty lips that make up models would murder their families for.

A loud knock on the door made the Cuban boy jump out of his skin. He squeaked quietly, noticing yellow eyes pry open as well. Keith moved to sit up properly, rubbing at his face. Lance forced himself to move towards the door, confused as all hell as to who it could be. Swinging the door open, the worn out college student was met with an empty hallway. A pale blue piece of paper dropped from the crook of the door to Lance’s feet. Picking it up, his stomach dropped. 

_ Tennent #113, _

_ It has been brought to our attention that you have breached your rental agreement by including a pet to your home without providing proper paperwork from a doctor or paying a pet housing fee. If proper action is not taken by the next billing cycle with the pet’s records on file, we will have no other choice than to start the eviction process. _

Lance’s hands trembled as he read and reread the document. It was short but enough to completely shatter the good mood he’d built up. He could lose his apartment. What in the  _ fuck _ would he do then? He shut the door, the paper wrinkling under his grip. Keith was standing, shrugging on his jacket. Big, golden eyes followed Lance, his head tilted. 

Lance licked over his bottom lip before worrying it with his teeth. Folding the note, he shoved the paper in his pocket. “I got you a treat, kitty cat. I warn ya, the texture’s a little wonky at first, but I’m sure you’ll love it, yeah?”

\--

Walking through sliding glass doors, Lance took a deep breath. He waited for Keith to catch up with him and gave the galra a weary smile. They had to do this… If Lance wanted to keep the privilege of making sure Keith was safe and taken care of… They had to do this. 

After frantic phone calls to Hunk, Pidge, and his mother, Lance had spent several nights weighing the options on how to register Keith into the system or whatever the government used to monitor the well being of Galra. He was still nervous but if this went down without a hitch and he skimped on the groceries for a few months, they could get all of the fees covered and Keith would legally be on his lease. 

_ He was going to  _ **_own_ ** _ Keith. _

The sentiment didn’t sit well with Lance, but really, what else could he do? It wasn’t like he could in good conscience just shove Keith onto the street and say “good luck”. This was the right thing, no matter if it was only the lesser of two evils. 

Keith stood beside Lance, unsure of where to go. He picked at thread on his jacket, almost getting a migraine from the mixture of smells in the building. A lot of galra must of come through this office. There was a distinct waft of dog in the air and normally that would put Keith on the verge of disassociation but Lance seemed fairly confident in his movements and he’d sprayed an earthy cologne all over himself. It was something Keith could easily focus on instead.

They moved further into the office, Lance talking to a small woman at the reception. Being the only appointment for the day, they were instantly ushered to the back. The smell of dog seemed in increase tenfold. Keith covered his nose with the sleeve of his jacket until he got used to the sensation overload. Despite the overbearing canine smell, something about it was familiar and it made his tail swish.

The couple was directed to sit in the two olive green chairs with the promise that their caseworkers would be with them shortly. Lance seemed to melt into the uncomfortable chair, his nerves too overworked to process more than what was right in front of him. Keith was on high alert; ears at full mast. His tail thumped lightly against the backing of Lance’s chair, feeling strangely territorial over Lance. He didn’t even want to sit; there was too much going on. If his human was this worked up, something couldn’t be good. 

The door opened with a sickening crunch, almost like the wood was splintering from an ill fit frame. It made both of the guests flinch. Keith was overpowered by the smell of canine and he wanted to bolt. Sometimes instinct really did take over and fight or flight was a hell of a thing to turn off. Lance reached back and touched the cat’s hand, hoping to calm the skittish thing the best he could. 

A dark skinned woman with a high, white-blonde ponytail moved quickly through the room. Lance took just a moment to appreciate her pencil skirt and how the pinstripes accentuated her hips. He felt his back straighten with a galra followed after her. Keith tensed under his touch and it made Lance frown. Why was there another galra here?

Clearing her throat, the blonde woman didn’t waste a moment in introducing herself. “Hello, Mr. McClain, I am Allura Altea and this is my partner, Takashi Shirogane.”

The Galra stood tall, his broad shoulders and posture demanding respect. Lance looked over his strong features, realizing his face was heavily scarred and his right arm was a prosthesis. The dog reached forward, offering his hand to Lance. The human took it and smiled lightly, not wanting to be rude. He had gotten boxed in the ears far too many times as a kid for manners not to stick.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you both. I’m Lance and this is Keith,” The brunette looked up to his kitten, trying to gauge how comfortable he was. 

Keith was staring at the dog galra, his tail twitching at the tip. The both of them seemed to be in an intense staring contest, the kitten’s features only shadowed by his twitching left ear. Keith gripped into the fabric of the chair Lance as sitting in and it was starting to make Lance incredibly nervous. He’d never seen Keith react like this, even when he lashed out that first night at their apartment. 

Allura noticed the shift in the air and turned to her partner. “Shi-”

A raspy baritone cut the woman off. “K31?”


	9. The Edge of Reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap guys. I can't believe I wrote this chapter so fast. I didn't plan on updating at least until Friday. but well, here we are. c: I felt inspired from all of the amazing comments you guys left me. <3 This story is getting so much love, I can't believe it. I'm so stoked that you all take the time to read my shitty fic xD
> 
> as always, my blog is [here](http://bluepalafin.tumblr.com) if you wanna talk to me, send me anything, or want me to write mini prompts in my ask. I'm always open to ideas~~
> 
> Chapter Inspired by: [ The Edge of Reality by The Dead Rabbitts.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKL2vRmg8-Q&list=PLjbze5aGCE3VQHt8apNAwjrab0qpdO8Al&index=10)

_ Everything was red. Blood. The smell of blood and sweat weighed heavily in the air. They wanted it that way. The handlers wanted every fighter to be delirious and unable to gauge their surrounding as easily as they should. Matted bits of fur and splattered bodily fluids coated the ground, leaving footwork near impossible. K31’s breath was labored and his entire left side ached. He was near completely positive that one or more of his ribs were broken. He gripped at his side to keep his balance, forcing himself to stand back up.  _

_ Dehydration started to set in, the roof of his mouth bone dry as K31 gulped at the air. He wiped at his forehead, hoping to keep the sweat from his eyes. Why was it so hot in here? Why was it necessary for hell to be as hot as it was? A strong kick to his jaw snapped the galra out of his musings, slinging his frail body against a chain link barrier.  _

_ The cat used the throwback momentum to pull forward, connecting his fist to the dog he was fighting. The crowd surrounding them broke out into a roaring cheer but it was all static compared to the pounding in the fighter’s ears. He moved back, giving the dog a heavy kick with his back feet, claws extended. White stained a heavy red as the shirt ripped at the chest.  _

_ In a flurry of movements, a second dog shot out into the ring. She mauled K31, knocking him to the ground head first. The first dog cornered the two of them, ripping the cat up off of the ground by his tail. Pain exploded from the feline galra’s entire body, bite marks and scratches bleeding profusely. He was close to blacking out. This was it, he was going to die.  _

_ In a last ditch effort, K31 rabbit kicked, feeling the male dog’s nose crunch under his toe pads. He flailed, crashing to the ground for a second time. A loud, devastated yelp pulled from the cat’s throat and involuntary tears flooding his vision when teeth clamped down onto his ear. His vision went black as his ear gave way under heavy teeth.  _

Keith’s eyes widened as he stared at the canine in front of him, his fingers trembling. Memories were flooding through his entire being and he shook, close to sprinting out of the door. The dog’s smell, his big, towering stature… He knew him. Keith instinctively reached up to his defective ear, fingers digging into the scar tissue like they had countless times before.

Lance stood up from his chair, putting a physical barrier between Keith and this new galra. He didn’t care that there was a desk and another human in front of him; it wasn’t enough. Nothing should ever cause Keith that have that look on his face.

“His name is Keith, not that fucking number. How do you know that number?” The Cuban boy’s voice was pure venom, not wanting to give this ‘Shiro’ a chance to hurt his friend. 

Shiro’s eyebrows shot up, his hands in the air. He took a large step back from the two of them, his shoulders hunched. He tried to make himself as small as physically possible. “Sorry, so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” 

Lance didn’t move from is protective stance in front of Keith but he let his features soften. “Uh huh.”

Allura watched what was unfolding and cleared her throat. She held an authority in her voice that made everyone calm down. Keith still looked like he was going to bolt for the door before she spoke. “Shiro, dear, what is going on? Do you know this galra?”

Shiro rubbed the back of his neck with his flesh hand, realizing that maybe he hadn’t thought this through. This kitten, Keith the boy had said, looked frightened out of his mind. Clearly he hadn’t gotten over what had happened, at least not to the same degree Shiro was lucky to overcome. His ears fell to the sides of his head, clearly sorry that he’d upset anyone. 

“S-sorry kid, I didn’t… I don’t mean any harm.” He glanced at his sponsor, “Yeah, I uh, I knew him. It’s… kinda complicated.”

Lance looked back at Keith, his eyes wide. The poor boy was shaking like a leaf. Keith moved away from the chair he was standing behind, distancing himself as much as he could from the other galra. Lance wasn’t helping. He had brought him here. Was this the end? Was he going to go back to his old handler? 

“Don’t wanna g-go b-back,” Keith was crying, tears streaming down his face faster than he could rub them away. The bags under his eyes quickly felt sensitive and raw. He stumbled over a curl in the paisley rug on the floor, crashing to the ground. He hissed at the way he landed on his tail but instantly started scurrying away. “W-won’t go! N-no, please, pl-please no!”

Lance’s heart was shattering in his chest. He’d never seen someone so fear stricken in his life. The brunette looked back to Shiro and Allura, his gaze hard but clearly confused. He had to do something to deescalate the situation. Keith was going to end up hurting himself or running away in his panic. He moved, his footsteps gentle as he approached Keith. His hands were outstretched, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible. “Keith?”

A harsh hiccup serrated at the feline’s throat as he tried to plead his case. Keith was far too gone down the rabbit hole, past trauma and anxiety getting the better of his common sense. He grabbed at Lance’s wrists, his grip surprisingly strong. “I-I tried t-to be good! Please s-sir! Don’t make m-me go back, I ha-haven’t broken rules! I can b-be better! No f-fu-furniture, I’ll g--”

Lance couldn’t take those heartbroken and pitiful sobs anymore. He grabbed at Keith, wrapping his arms around the boy’s still incredibly thin frame. His hold was gentle, situating himself so that he was on the same level as his kitten. He held Keith to his chest, petting at the boy’s dark locks. “Keith, kitten, you aren’t going anywhere. You’re stuck with me until  _ you _ choose not to be, okay? You don’t gotta be good or whatever the fuck, shh, deep breaths for me, okay?”

Allura looked over to Shiro, her expression distant. She didn’t know what to do. This had been the first time that anyone had such a complete and utter meltdown in her office. She watched the two in the floor, weary of the consequences if she tried to separate them or interrupt. Shiro’s face looked like it was encased in stone. She couldn’t get a read on him either. “Shiro…?”

He looked at her, his eyes giving away his utter worry. “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t think he would react like this… I, I don’t know…” 

The platinum blond woman reached out her hand and lightly massaged her thumb into the back of Shiro’s left ear, knowing it was one of the easiest ways to de-stress the poor galra. “You couldn’t have known, dear. Different people react to different stimulants and triggers, you know that.”

“Yeah…”

Lance was holding Keith to his body like it was a life or death experience. WIth the way that the catboy was crying, you would think he was mortally wounded. But, that’s what trauma is, isn’t it? A wound that festers and gets infected even though you can never truly see it? Lance pressed soft kisses to the crown of Keith’s head, falling back on all of the tricks that he’d picked up on from his mother comforting him. 

Keith buried his head into Lance’s neck, still whimpering and pleading to not have to leave. He couldn’t go back, not when he knew what it was like to have it good. He was too selfish, too wanting. The hysterics seemed to wane, nonetheless. Lance turned to look at Allura and Shiro, not exactly apologetic for Keith’s outburst, but more wanting to be respectful. No one should have to apologize for having their world crumble around their feet. 

“I deeply apologize…” Shiro bowed his head, his tail tucked beside his leg. He angled himself so that he could speak directly to Keith and the man holding him. “I didn’t stop to think about how I could possibly trigger someone or put them into an awful mindset… Especially this boy…”

Allura stood up from the desk, moving to Lance’s side. She put a gentle hand on Keith’s back but didn’t even sway when she felt him flinch. “We are here to help you, Keith. No matter what your life was like, you will absolutely never have to go back. Lance here, he wants to take care of you. Shiro escaped from the fighting rings, just like I’m sure you did… There is hope for a future, for you.”  

Keith slumped into Lance’s chest, absolutely exhausted from the panic that was still coursing his veins. It was like he was hearing everything in a wind tunnel. Safety? Future? What do those words even mean to a defective, abused pet? His deep yellow eyes bore into the carpeting beside Allura’s feet, his breathing labored. Lance dutifully kept massaging his fingers into Keith’s spine and radiating them outward, hoping the gentle touches would help at the very least ease some of the turmoil raging in Keith’s brain. 

“W-wanna stay.”

Lance pressed a soft, gentle kiss to Keith’s left ear, his heart warmed by the way it flicked against his mouth. “You can stay as long as you like. As long as you will have me, I’ll be here, yeah? We just gotta talk to these people first. They are here to  _ help _ but if you can’t handle that right now, we can reschedule, okay?” Lance glanced up at Allura to confirm.

“Absolutely; our main goal is to make sure that galra are as safe and  _ free _ as possible, Keith. Your friend sought us out because he wants you to be able to live your life however you see fit. You do not have to have an owner or a collar ever again if you so choose.” Allura spoke calmly, her words having spilled from her lips countless times. She loved her job, she loved being given the opportunity to truly save wayward souls. 

“L-Lance is my ow-owner.” Keith rubbed at his eyes, a heavy weight of humiliation and fatigue crashing into his system. “I w-want to be his.” 

Lance’s eyes widened and he felt his heart skip a beat. That hadn’t been the answer he was expecting. Surely someone living the life that Keith had… why wouldn’t he want to be free? Why wouldn’t he want to break the metaphorical chains that those collars brought with them?

Shiro moved closer to the group, still wary of setting Keith off again. He raked his fingers through his hair before dipping down to his level like Allura had. “Keith, can I call you that?” There was a silent nod, “I was able to run away from the fighting rings after you and I collided. I thought I had killed you. You have no idea how happy I am to see you with someone who actually cares about you…” 

Keith sniffled in response, not having the proper mental capacity to connect that he should still be utterly terrified of this man. He clung to Lance's form, finding solstice in that woody, musky cologne. He took a sharp inhale, his body starting to ache. 

Lance stood up fluidly, cradling the small galra in his arms before moving back to those ugly chairs. His own head was swimming from the information and turn of events. Keith had been a fighter in illegal dog rings? No wonder the poor boy was skittish of his own shadow and covered in faint scars. 

Allura and Shiro took the hint, moving back to the formal setting, taking seats of their own behind the large oak desk. Shiro tapped his prosthetic fingers against the tabletop, deciding to bite the bullet. “As far as I am concerned, that was enough for me to know that you do care about his well being. I don't see the point in really giving you both an extensive interview. Gods above, I am truly sorry though.”

Allura nodded in agreement. “The Voltron Association would be more than happy to stand by you and help you sponsor a safe home for Keith. There will be legal fees, but we can work out a payment plan. There is nothing that has to be done right this moment. We can start the paperwork from here and move forward. Excuse me for being frank, but I would also strongly advise that he sees our therapist that is on staff. Free of charge, of course. Shiro has gone to him for over a year and has made fantastic strides.”

Keith clung to Lance tighter, not wanting to be separated. His left ear flicked incessantly against the latino boy’s shoulder but Lance didn’t pay it any mind. He just kept a steady hand on Keith’s back, rubbing soft circles into his shoulder muscles.

Allura smiled at the display, pulling out a manilla folder. “We will have to ask a few questions, though. It is for our own records, making sure everything is as neat and orderly as possible. Do you feel comfortable doing that now?”

“Sure, as long as Keith is comfortable with it.” Lance spoke quietly, not wanting to hurt Keith’s ears from the close proximity. The small galra gave a deft nod. 

“How old is he?” 

“He told me 19.” 

“Birthday?”

Keith shrugged half heartedly and Lance couldn’t even comprehend that. How do people just not know when their birthday is? Though, it seemed logical that if you grew up without a proper name, no one would really find it all that important to celebrate your birth… Lance was going to cry before this was all said and done. Allura simply wrote it down in the file. 

“When was the last time he went into heat?” Her voice was a strange monotone, almost bored.

“He- what?!”


	10. Smokahontas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay; I'll be real with you guys. I hate how this chapter turned out. I've stared at it far, far too long. It's needed to further the story, but wow I hate it xD I stalled in writing really bad after the BJD con and had to force myself to actually work on this bc the creative juices were just tapped dry. But now that I've got a good idea of what I need to do to make the Plot Twist™ to happen things should go back to normal. c: 
> 
> pls come talk to me at my blog [here](http://bluepalafin.tumblr.com/) if you want to talk about klance, shklance, or really anything. u3u I really enjoy talking to people and throwing headcanons and sneak peaks of the chapters at people. c: 
> 
> Chapter Inspired By: [ Smokahontas by Attack Attack!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2P1er5ht1ZE&list=PLjbze5aGCE3VQHt8apNAwjrab0qpdO8Al&index=11)

Lance didn’t know just how much more his fragile mind or body could take. He didn’t understand how cis males could go through a heat, let alone how people could put galra through the tortures of the damned just for the sake of entertainment. Shiro spoke so calmly about the abuse and horrors that he had survived, explaining all the while that Keith had likely suffered a similar fate. Lance had never been more happy to see the kitten sleeping before the discussion started, knowing he had to be exhausted from the mental gymnastics he’d been forced to face. Lance found himself petting and smoothing out Keith’s hair as he spoke to the woman and her galra.

Paperwork had been started, Allura thankfully going the electronic route to get everything expedited. She was even graceful enough to fill it out as Lance provided the answers, not wanting to rustle Keith and accidentally wake him up. It was really refreshing to see someone care about the galra’s wellbeing and take him into consideration. Lance, despite the intensity of the meeting, really enjoyed Allura and Shiro.

Shiro had insisted on calling a cab for Lance and Keith when he learned that they would be walking home. Lance tried to argue but caved quickly when he realized that Keith was still incredibly groggy from sleeping so suddenly. The catboy was quiet but his mood seemed to have improved; he had even answered a few questions Shiro asked without shying away. The dog gave Keith a card with his information on it, telling the both of them to contact him directly if they ever needed anything.

Lance grinned like an idiot when he thought about the progress Keith made. The car ride was short but that hadn’t stopped the galra from falling asleep against the lightly vibrating window. The human had no earthly idea how he’d managed that; the movement of the glass always made Lance’s teeth rattle. He watched Keith sleep until they pulled in front of their shared apartment building and only looked away to speak to their uber driver. 

“How much do I owe you, miss?”

“S’already paid. The dude with uh, y’know, the dog ears paid for you.” The woman waved Lance off with the back of her hand. “He tipped too; them galra really are nice most of the time.” 

Lance grinned, nodding along with her words. “Yeah, they can be fairly spectacular.”

It was becoming second nature to just scoop Keith’s unconscious body up and carry him off like a besotted bride. If Lance was being honest with himself, he didn’t quite know how he should feel about it. This poor cat was so exhausted that he didn’t even register that the car had stopped or the loud chatter around him in the elevator. A little girl even reached out to grab for his tail in the small lift but her mother had pulled her away. Lance felt a twinge of happiness when the woman called Keith a kitten and told her daughter that it wasn’t okay to touch people without their permission, especially if they were asleep. 

The apartment was thankfully incredibly cold compared to the outside world and Lance practically melted into his sofa, Keith still draped over him. The Cuban boy didn’t have the heart to move him, selfishly loving the way that Keith would rub his ears along the center of Lance’s chest as he tried to get comfortable. Lance didn’t understand his interest in Keith much more than he understood the situation they were thrust into but taking it day by day seemed to be the best course of action. 

The brunette leaned over and grabbed for the television remote, needing something to drown out the heavy silence. If he thought too hard about anything to pertain to the galra, it would just get weird. He turned it to one of the cartoon channels, wanting something light on in case Keith woke up. He’d recognized the program as one that he’d seen his kitty cat actively watch, something about a boy and his dog best friend going on fantastical adventures. Lance didn’t care much for it really, finding the main kid’s voice to sound kind of douchey. Whatever floats people’s boats though. Voice acting had to be a sweet gig. 

The catboy was melted into the makeshift bedding, his arm thrown lazily around Lance’s waist. Raking his fingers through Keith’s hair, the human smiled wide. This was good, right? Keith felt comfortable and calm enough around him to sleep comfortably. He trusted Lance.

Lance’s eyes trailed over his couch mate’s frame, taking in the slender waist and how there seemed to be hairline scars littering his arms and legs. How had Lance always missed those? The most noticeable had to be the mass of scar tissue on the galra’s left ear, though. Lance traced over the raised flesh, cooing gently when Keith moved to knock away the sensations. Right; don’t touch without permission. Lance couldn’t help but to wonder if the scarring hurt his roommate.

The cuban boy stretched out comfortably, moving so that he was laying flat with the cat on top of him. Sadly, it felt like Keith only weighed the average of a normal house cat so it didn’t even register to the other. Lance could feel the pull of sleep rippling over himself and he didn’t fight it. They’d both had a hell of a day; they deserved lazy naps in the afternoon sun.

\--

The air was thick with the smell of sizzling flank steak and green peppers. Lance was salivating like a dog being denied it’s last meal as he stalked the kitchen, watching Hunk work feverishly in front of the stove. It smelled like absolute heaven. He had the best friends in the world. 

“You can sit down, you know. This isn’t going to be done for a while.” Hunk had the urge to smack Lance’s hand with the wooden spoon he was holding. After years of cooking for this idiot, Hunk finally understood his mother’s frustration from when he was a child.

“And be denied the chance to be your taste tester? Fat fuckin’ chance, mi amigo.” The Cuban boy had a cheshire grin. If he smiled any harder, he would have to pick yellow feathers from his teeth.

“It’s just fajitas, Lance. It’s not like I’m trying out my mom’s recipes. Besides, this is a celebration dinner for Keith. It’s been three months since he’s joined our group of ragtag misfits and he deserves to be celebrated. Especially since, you know, you finally got the paperwork finished and he legally lives with you now.” The darker skinned boy shooed Lance away before resting his hands on his wide hips. 

“Yeah I know that, mom.” Lance rolled his eyes before mimicking Hunk’s hand positions. “That doesn’t stop me from being hungry or that smelling like heaven wafting its way through the apartment either. Besides, I wanted to give Keith and Pidge a chance to be on their own for a bit. They get along really well an’ I don’t wanna crowd them.” 

Lance and Hunk both looked out into the living room after a moment, seeing Keith on the floor near the coffee table while Pidge was showing him something on her laptop. They were both smiling and talking quietly. The brunette boy lifted himself up onto the counter and made himself comfortable. 

“So you’re stuck with me, my good ol’ buddy an’ pal.” 

“Get your ass off the counter; Jesus, Lance.” Hunk made a face, trying to shoo him away.

“Eh, it’s my apartment, nerdlord. I’ll sit where I want.” 

“That’s gross, first of all. Second, if you want me to leave the leftovers here, you will get the hell up and wipe that counter off.” Hunk had always been a stickler about clean surface areas in kitchens. Maybe he was more like his mother than he gave himself credit for. He should call her more often.

The smaller of the two made a rude gesture with his hand before getting down from his spot. Lance grabbed one of the watermelon towelettes he’d found at a thrift shop and the lysol, wiping down the entirety of the countertops. There was something vaguely nostalgic about the smell of cleaning product and the itchiness of the rag on his palm. He could vividly remember spending time with his mama in the kitchen, cleaning as she cooked dinner or even just helping put the groceries away after a long trip to the supermarket. 

Lance couldn’t stop the train of thought from horridly derailing, going to think about how Keith and Shiro couldn’t relate to that notion. Hunk could; he and Lance had both lamented several times about missing their parents and the smells from the kitchen on sunday nights. Pidge avidly joined in with them most of the time, telling everyone about how she missed being able to pal around with her brother now that he was studying in the space program, or getting DipN’Dots with her parents on a lazy afternoon. Neither of the galra had a normal childhood with parents or small domestic moments that defined smells or actions for them. They didn’t… They weren’t allowed to have the life of a human child even though they clearly were. It made something in Lance’s chest prickle in pain and heartache. 

“Uh,” Lance stalled, his mind trying to jumpstart his own thoughts. “Actually, I uh, I think I’m gonna go make a phone call. I’ll be right back, yeah?” 

The heavyset boy looked up from the pan he was nursing and watched his friend for a second. “You okay, buddy? You don’t actually have to leave, you know.” 

“Yeah, I know. I’m just uh, I’m just gonna call Shiro and Allura. See if they wanna come over an’ celebrate with us. I can go pick up some more food if we need it…” Lance made a face, pulling out his phone. “I think… I think it would do Keith and maybe Shiro some good to uh, you know, have normal interaction?”

Hunk waved him off, seeming to catch on to what Lance was getting at. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Shiro’s a good guy.” 

“Yeah. Yeah he is.” Lance confirmed, pulling out his phone. He’d thankfully saved his number after Keith and the dog galra met up again at a session with the Voltron therapist. 

Lance moved to his bedroom to make the call, preferring to not have to shout over Pidge’s We Speak No Americano remix for the eighth time. The dull ringing felt like it was drilling into the back of the Latino boy’s skull. He hated phones. 

“--llo?” Shiro’s voice was a heavy baritone over the phone, sounding almost like a gruff  _ bark _ .

“Hey uh, Shiro? It’s Lance McClain,” 

“Is K3-- Keith okay?” There was a stuttered panic that crackled through the speaker, making the hair on the back of Lance’s neck stand on end. 

“Y-yeah, everything’s fine! Great even. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Uh, I actually wanted to invite you and Allura to dinner? We just got the lease signed so that Keith can legally live with me and we are celebrating! He’s been with me for three months now and he’s doing so good. I was just thinking that maybe you two would like to join the festivities and… I uh,” Lance felt awkward but pushed through the lump in his throat. This was for Keith. “He really likes having you around and I think he would appreciate you being here? We aren’t doing anything fancy, so don’t feel obligated or anything, seriously. He doesn’t even know I asked you.”

There was a deep, raspy chuckle and Shiro’s warm voice made Lance relax. “I’d love to come over. Should i bring food or something? I’ll ask if Allura wants to come. I’m sure she would be more than happy to see Keith again. She’s asked me about him once or twice.”

“Great. We’ve having fajitas. My friend is making them and he should honestly be a world famous chef at this point. I don’t think you should have to bring anything, but if you want something that’s totally cool.” Lance felt like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He couldn’t explain why he felt it was necessary that Shiro be there, but God was he glad that the canine galra accepted the invitation. 

“You’re incredibly generous; Thanks Lance. We will be right over. Text me your address if you don’t mind.” Lance could hear the dog’s sponsor in the background, excitedly chattering away to someone and it made him smile. 

“Sure, no problem. Thanks for uh, you know, helping him out.” Lance felt like an idiot, barely able to keep the conversation linear. He kept jumping back to Keith and how this was still so  _ new _ . 

“Don’t mention it, kid. You both have something special going on. It’s palpable. If Allura or I could help move that along in any way and help him thrive and live a happy life then I’d happily do whatever I can. We are all growing and trying to move on from different things. You deserve praise too, Lance.” The gentle rumble of the galra’s voice could lull a raging bull to a peaceful slumber.

Lance’s heart fluttered and he smiled. “Thanks. Seriously.”


	11. MakeDamnSure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuck guys, this story has broken 9000 hits. I can't. I can't fathom or understand how it got this popular but i am so, so, so thankful for you all! 8D <3 Thank you so so so much for giving this story a chance. 
> 
> I'm sorry this chapter is a little short, I had to cut it off before it got too long. This is a pretty important bit ;3 make sure you pay attention to everything ;DD The next chapter will be... interesting to say the least. c: Heavy hitters are my favorites.
> 
> Chapter Inspired by: [ MakeDamnSure by Taking Back Sunday. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ldjbjwim4k&list=PLjbze5aGCE3VQHt8apNAwjrab0qpdO8Al&index=12)

Lance couldn’t think of a time that so many people had been inside of his tiny little apartment. It made his heart rumble like an old Playstation 2 controller, sparking emotions of being home and the concept of family. He looked around, seeing everyone greet and trade formalities made a heavy sense of warmth settle in Lance’s stomach. He really, really missed this feeling.

True to their word, Allura and Shiro showed up to the small get together thirty minutes after the call had finished, bringing ice cream and a small cake with them. Pidge had cheered at the fact that there would be something sweet to quell the spice from the fajitas while Hunk simply cooed at how thoughtful it was for them to bring something. Small gestures really did go a long way. Those two had been sold the moment the woman and dog had entered the room. 

Keith’s ears were raised high, his tail arched. He watched Shiro from his spot in front of the coffee table, the smell of canine leeching into the space he so selfishly called his own. His shoulders squared for a moment as he tried to fight back the natural reaction to bare his teeth, knowing Lance and the others would be beyond disappointed. Shiro wasn’t like he used to be; neither of them were. Keith knew Shiro wouldn’t hurt him but that didn’t stop the initial shock to his system. 

The cat’s heckles seemed to calm the longer he watched the two newcomers, his fingers threaded into the fringe of the blue duvet that he used. Taking a deep breath, Keith stood up on shaking legs, wanting to properly greet Miss Allura and Shiro. He was a good boy, he had to be polite. “I-it’s good to s-see you again.”

Allura smiled brightly and gave a small wave, unsure if Keith would feel comfortable with a hug or physical contact. “Hi darling, how are you feeling? You looked a little spooked when we came in.” 

Keith’s cheeks flared and he looked down, his fingers twisting at the thin collar around his neck. Words were failing him but it seemed important to respond. “U-uh, I just wasn’t e-expecting anyone e-else…? Not th-that I don’t… you… Th-thank you for coming!”

Shiro watched Keith for a moment, an odd expression over his face. He didn’t like how jumpy the kitten still seemed. That wasn’t really his business though; everyone healed and changed at their own pace. He didn’t really know Keith’s past as much as he would like to and didn’t feel qualified to help him, nor did he have the right to meddle unless something was actually wrong. Shiro thought Lance had the right idea though. Any small accomplishments should definitely be rewarded and celebrated. This was definitely good for the feline. 

Allura took the desserts to the kitchen, greeting Hunk with a wide grin. The Filipino boy was chopping lettuce and transfering it into a large bowl, smiling wide when he noticed her. He wiped his hands on the apron he’d brought with him and offered to shake her hand. “Hey, it’s nice to finally meet you. Lance has told us about you an’ Shiro.” 

“Oh, only good things I hope. The Organisation can always be a bit hectic.” Allura attempted to wave Hunk off with a small shift of her hand.

“Well, I mean, yeah  they’ve all been real good. You guys have really helped him an’ Keith out a lot. As far as I’m concerned that means that you guys are just as much a part of the family.” Hunk was beaming, happy to finally put a face to a name. 

Allura flushed and felt herself nervously playing with a curl of her hair. “Oh, you are very sweet. Lance has mentioned you once or twice while waiting for Keith’s turn to see Coran. You seem to be the one that makes sure everyone eats and stays healthy.”

Hunk nodded, cracking his knuckles before dicing an onion. After a quick run through with the knife, the chef of the night dropped the vegetable into the sizzling meat. The aroma instantly flooded the kitchen. “You could say that I’m the backbone of this family, yeah. It’s second nature at this point to make sure that Lance doesn’t get too lost into his art projects and forget to eat or that he has enough food after he spends his last few bucks on supplies he needs for class. Adding Keith to the mix is absolutely nothing.” 

Allura stalled for a moment, loving the smell of home cooking. She so rarely cooked for herself and Shiro was just as busy as she was. This really was turning out to be a treat. “I’m really glad to hear that. I’ve only met the both of them once or twice but their relationship does… make an impression, yeah?”

“Oh, definitely.” Hunk smiled, finishing the last of their meal. He gave a small request for a pot holder to set the skillet on so they didn’t have to crowd around the over hot stove. All of the final touches were complete.

“Okay,” Hunk leaned against the door frame, raising his voice to get the group’s full attention. Pidge had challenged Shiro to a karaoke contest and a deep rooted part of the chunky boy was glad that he had finished cooking before Journey could start playing. No one needed that. 

“The rules are as follows: kitten of honor gets his food first, then guests. Lance and Pidge, you dirty little gremlins will wait your turn.” Hunk flashed a wide grin, motioning that it was okay for Keith to come up and fix his plate.

Keith’s ears spiked at the mention of himself and he squirmed, not liking the idea of being so front and center. He didn’t even really know  _ what _ they were celebrating. Why was it such a good thing that Lance was stuck with him now? He was a leech and couldn’t take care of himself. He moved forward, dipping into the kitchen. 

The chatter around him sounded like radio static and he wasn’t fully certain that his legs weren’t going to give out. Mercy on his senses, everything smelled amazing though. Keith wavered, only moving forward because Hunk took it upon himself to hand the galra a plate with a tortilla and meat already on it. The peppers and onion were making it hard for the kitten to really process any of the other smells but he knew his empty stomach wanted it. They said this as okay. They wouldn’t get mad at him for getting more, right? Was… Was this a test?

Playing it safe, the cat only grabbed a little of the leafy green lettuce and threw it on top of his plate before scurrying back to his spot on top of his afghan. He whispered a butchered thank you to Hunk for supplying the heavenly smelling food as he passed him. His claws dug into the scratchy fabric but the sensation against his toe pads seemed to help ground him. Staring at the food on his proffered plate, Keith wasn’t sure what to do with it. Was he supposed to fold it? Eat it like a salad? He picked up one of the larger leaves of lettuce, munching on it. If he was going to get in trouble for it, he was damn well going to eat it.

“E’cuse me,” The canine galra scooted passed Keith as easily as he could, curling up on top of the couch at the far side. He left plenty of room in case anyone wanted to share the small sofa with him. 

Keith’s jaw almost shattered against the floor and he stared at Shiro as if he were cerberus rather than a dobermann. The cat’s heart rate made his chest ache and he stood up like he’d been tazed. The man’s tail was pressed against the sofa, swaying into the fabric as he took a bite of his food. The kitten thought he was going to be sick.. His neck made an almost unhealthy popping noise as he jerked backwards to see if the humans could see any of this. They all seemed to be in the kitchen, lined around the food. Good.

Keith stood up, his vision blacking around the edges with the headrush he gained. His movements were fast but near silent. He grabbed at Shiro’s hand, cold digits pressing into the warm, broad palm. His voice was low and his ears on high alert. Keith tugged the older man, almost making him drop his food. 

“Y-you can’t do th-that!” Keith’s voice was a low hiss, trying not to alert the others. He gave a deft tug, his eyes pleading. “Pl-please… they ain’t… they didn’t s-see.”

Shiro was on full alert, seeing that Keith was panicking. His ears were arched as high as possible and he maneuvered himself so that he wouldn’t drop his food and create a huge mess. That would only shake the kitten that much worse. Shiro scooted to the edge of the sofa, holding Keith still so that he didn’t trash. “What’s going on? What can’t I do?”

“P-pets ain’t allowed o-on the furniture! Y-you know that. Good p-pets don’t get in the way, we don’t take up human sp-space! D-don’t… do-don’t get us b-both in trouble…” Keith’s eyes were watery, his entire frame shaking. This was disturbing him to his very core. 

The words stung Shiro, his stomach churning. Did Lance...did Lance seriously not let Keith on the furniture? His eyes bore into that ugly little blanket and he looked up at the cat, reaching forward to push his hair out of his face. Metal fingers brushed over the now actively crying boy’s cheeks. “Keith… Keith. It’s okay. You’re allowed to do this. I’m allowed to do this. We don’t have to be trophy pets.”

“N-no!” The broken, watery sob pulled painfully from the smaller of the two, ripping his body free from the dog. 

Keith’s outburst seemed to finally catch the attention of the humans, all four of them crowding around the door frame. Lance weaseled his way from between Allura and Hunk, apologizing for how boney his elbows are. He moved to the two galra, his blood going cold from the glare Shiro was throwing at him. The Latino boy opened his mouth but a flurry of limbs and fur rushed forward.

Keith’s shaking frame pressed into Lance’s side, arms wound tightly around his waist. Simply out of habit, Lance returned the embrace and nuzzled his face in between those two overlarge ears. “What the hell is goin’ on?” 

This didn’t seem to help the situation near as well as he’d hoped. Keith’s frame shook as another sob built up, his fingers digging into Lance’s ribs. Of the things that Lance could have imagined were the issue, nothing had prepared him for what spilled from between trembling lips. It took him a few seconds to even process it.

“I’m s-sorry! I tr-tried to get him to mo-ove… S-sir, pl-please don’t g-get mad at him! He di-didn’t know we can’t b-be on the fu-fu-urniture.” The sleeve of Lance’s baseball tee was wet from the crocodile tears that the galra was shedding. 

Keith was trembling and his entire body realing back from Lance’s touch like he was expecting to get struck. Lance could feel everyone staring at him in a mix of horror and confusion. He didn’t know what to say or to do. He could barely even understand what the clearly distraught boy meant. “Wh-what?”

“You don’t let him on the furniture?” Shiro’s voice was deadly, every syllable ready to shred Lance into tiny razor burnt pieces. 

Lance blinked owlishly, his mouth hanging open. His shoulders squared, instantly trying to defend himself. “What?! Of course I do. He an’ I’ve napped on the couch so many times.” 

“N-no! Th-that’s not oh-okay!” Keith was wobbling, his knees knocking together. Lance reached out, securing his hand on the small of the galra’s back. Keith winced, hiccuping. “T-too dirty. N-not good en-enough…” 

Lance’s mouth was agape, floored by his kitten’s outburst. He felt his own stomach churn and quake, desperate to make Keith understand. His shoulders were shaking and he peeled away to look the galra in the face. “No, Keith… there isn’t some heirarchy, this apartment is just as much yours as it is mine. You don’t have to have permission to do a damn thing, especially being comfortable and sitting on the furniture. I-I… I’m sorry I didn’t… I didn’t realize you felt this uncomfortable.” 


	12. Portraits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SCREAMS. I finally finished this chapter Orz 
> 
> I don't have much of an excuse, honestly. My depression freight trained my ass and I didn't want to work on anything or even remotely move let alone actually force myself to write anything. My birthday was on the 7th! :D I'm now a year older, and you know, any belated presents are still totally accepted ;DDD I had actually planned on updating for my birthday, but well. That clearly didn't happen. And then the horrific election happened and that scared the fuck out of me. Fun times, man. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope everyone who celebrates has a wonderful Thanksgiving and if not, then I hope you still have a good day regardless. c: I'm hoping to get on a normal updating schedule after this, so hopefully good things will come. Also, Holy Fucking Hell, guys, This broke 10k and is edging towards 11k before I've even posted this chapter?????? And almost 1k kudos???? I'm going to cry. You all spoil me so much. ; u ; If you ever wanna follow my blog/come say hi/request anything, it's [here](http://bluepalafin.tumblr.com/)! I just recently changed my url from actuallywadewilson to bluepalafin. c: 
> 
> Chapter Inspired by: [ Portraits by Storm the Sky ft. Matty Mullens.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RvkQY7YZAiM&index=13&list=PLjbze5aGCE3VQHt8apNAwjrab0qpdO8Al)

Shiro’s shoulders were squared and his face looked like it was etched in stone. He stared Lance down, not trusting the words leaving the college student’s mouth. He had listened to all of these bullshit stories from owners before. That didn’t stop the fact that Keith was standing there shaking, too terrified to use a chair in his own goddamn home. The dog’s ears were back and it took everything in him to not snap his jaws at Lance. His tail was pin rod straight and alert, ready to leap if needed. That wasn’t who he was anymore though; the days of solving conflicts with his fists were over. 

Lance still looked genuinely distressed. He was standing between the dog and cat, his face giving away exactly how out of his depth he was. It was hard for him to fathom that Keith was this upset; that he seriously didn’t believe that he was allowed the simple luxury of  _ sitting on the sofa _ . Had he ever done anything to give Keith that impression? There was a migraine starting to form in the base of the brunette’s skull, making it hard for him to process anything that wasn’t the way his kitten was shaking against his arm.    
  
Shiro moved, taking a step towards the two. He wanted to make sure what he was hearing was true. His priority was to make sure that Keith was safe and taken care of. Granted, he liked Lance well enough and the others seemed nice, but this kitten was fragile and Shiro wouldn’t hesitate to take him away from them. Keith’s safety came before their comfort. He put himself at Keith’s level, trying to keep himself as nonthreatening as possible. 

“Keith,” Shiro’s voice was a deep rumble; it was hard to hide his own emotions. “Are you happy here?”

The feline’s fingers clenched against his pants legs and Keith nodded deftly, not even giving the weight of the question a chance to settle in the air. “L-Lance is real go-good to me. O-of course i’m happy!” 

Shiro looked between the two, a weird sort of sympathy settling in his stomach. This kitten was  _ happy and content _ not being allowed on furniture and following a bout of arbitrary rules? He shifted his weight, standing to his full height. The dog could hear the others off by the kitchen, quietly waiting on bated breath, unsure of what was going to unfold.    
  
Lance was trembling, every move the dog made seemed to have him flinching. Shiro cut his eyes over Lance’s face, unsure of how he felt. He lifted his hand to grab the Cuban boy’s shoulder but a loud, guttural growl stopped him in his tracts. Shiro’s eyes widened almost comically to see Keith putting his body in front of his owner’s. 

“Y-you’re not go-gonna touch ‘im.” The threat in Keith’s voice was blatant and Shiro backed away, knowing from experience that his slight frame was the perfect disguise for unadulterated strength and agility.    
  
“Keith,” Lance’s voice was watery, clearly close to his own breaking point. “Keith… k-kitten, you don’t have to pr-protect me.” There were the tears. “I-if you want to leave, I won’t stop you.” 

Keith’s ears rose high and he turned to Lance, still keeping himself between the two taller men. He wouldn’t let the dog near his owner even if it meant actually losing his ear this time. He watched the Latino man’s face shift and the tears well in his eyes, finding it hard to understand what was really happening now. He knew the rules. He knew how to behave. Why was  _ everyone _ staring at him like he’d messed up? Shiro was the one breaking the rules, why wasn’t he the one being put on the spot? 

“I don’t…” Keith was searching Lance’s face, desperate to see any twinge of emotion or direction so that he could at least guess what the other wanted to hear. His hands were trembling at his sides, cold blanching his skin. His vision was getting spotty, panic signals firing off in his head left and right. ‘I didn’t br-break the rules… wh-...why do I h-have to go?! I don-don’t wanna go!”

Allura felt her heart breaking at the display at her feet. It was hard to watch, no matter which side she decided to believe. She ran her fingers through pale blonde fringe and stepped forward. This was a serious issue that had to be dealt with immediately. These three wouldn’t be able to move on at all without some form of closure. She cleared her throat, signalling that she was moving closer to them.    
  
Shiro’s ears flicked and he watched his friend and sponsor move closer to Lance and Keith. He didn’t like this. All of it left a sour taste, incredibly close to bile, in the back of his throat. The canine trusted Allura though; he trusted that she would get to the root of the problem and come to the best conclusion. There was a reason she worked in such a delicate field. 

“Keith, sweetie,” Allura’s voice was soft and warm like a blanket just pulled from a dryer. She rested her hand on the feline galra’s upper arm, wanting to level with him as much as possible. “You keep mentioning rules, what do you think the rules are? Has Lance ever told you there are rules for you to follow?” 

Keith turned to face the woman, his fingers threading through his hair and digging slightly at his ears to keep focused. He didn’t want to slip away anymore. He looked down at her hand, tracing along her fingers with his eyes. The mauve nail polish went really well with her creme cardigan. Guessing from how her wrist was moving slightly, he was still shaking. “L-Lance hasn’t made new rules. I-I’ve been good th-though! I remember my tr-training this time, he didn’t have t’ remind me none…” 

Lance’s shoulders stiffened, his heart already shattered into a million pieces. He couldn’t handle hearing Keith talk like this. His entire being radiated with hurt for the other boy. He didn’t want anything more than to help this terrified creature but no matter what he did, Lance only seemed to  make it worse. He’d never thought it would be this deep. He’d never thought to even  _ ask  _ Keith what he’d gone through or what he expected from them living together. Lance had always just hoped this would be a safe space for the kitten and that Keith would talk to him if anything was truly bothering him. 

Allura tried to keep herself from frowning; she has expected it to be something like this. She let her thumb run soothing circles over his bicep, focusing on the way that he seemed to unwillfully tug at himself. “What did your… training teach you, dear? What’s made you think Lance would make you keep up with those rules? You aren’t with your old owners, Love.” 

“E-everythin’s been…  _ good _ sin-since I’ve been here… I-I’ve followed the rules a-and got to stay. Wh-why would I try to mess that up? He’s the o-one breaking the rules!” Keith was pointing towards Shiro, his arms trembling. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to get put outside again. Lance was good to him, he was kind. Keith was just trying to be as good and quiet so that he didn’t bother his keeper; he just wanted to give back. Why were they treating him like he was wrong and in trouble?

Lance swallowed thickly, unable to take it anymore. He wrapped his arms around Keith, pressing his face to the other’s hair. He took a sharp inhale, the smell of their shared shampoo and the natural spice that was the kitten in his arms assaulted his senses. He held the other to his chest, breathing in every shake and tremor Keith had in his body. Lance didn’t know what to do but he could at the very least be a support system. He could learn and grow along with the galra, hoping to better the environment for him. 

Allura watched the display and backed away, noticing the way that Keith seemed to calm with Lance’s strong chest against his back. The kitten wasn’t scared of Lance, and that was enough for the moment. She looked over at Shiro and they traded a soft expression. This was good. This was progress. Keith was talking and that was important. 

She took her hand back, resting both in her jean pockets. She didn’t want to come off as threatening or like she was forcing the kitten to talk. Allura just knew that this would make both galra and the others in the room feel a lot better in the long run. The tension in the room could get sliced with a butter knife. “Keith…” The blonde smiled softly, “What… what rules have you been following, exactly? If you let us know, we can help you and then Lance can help you come up with rules they help you both out in the end, okay?” 

Purple ears twitched and Keith let his arms rest against Lance’s, a choked sound pulling from his throat. This man, he was so kind and so very warm. No one had ever willingly touched the kitten like this and it made Keith’s stomach feel like it was on fire. He dug his toes into the cheap carpeting and watched the way Miss Allura spoke to him. She was so calm and thoughtful. Everyone here was, really. They… They weren’t like his old owners, right? 

Keith looked down at his fingers and how the purple stood a stark contrast against the caramel of Lance’s skin. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep eye contact with the humans if he had to recite the rules, he’d never been able to in the past. Sometimes his shoulders still ached because of it. “G-good pets stay off furniture. G-good pets do as they are told a-and only as they are told. Humans ha-have final say in all decisions and arguing is a-absolutely forbidden. A human’s happiness is more impo-important because they ke-keep you safe. Good pets live t-to please their master. No messes, n-no noise. Stay cl-clean and always be pre-etty like a trophy. Always win if you w-want to eat. Earn your keep.” 

Lance cut in before Allura could speak up. The both of them looked like they were about to hit the floor. “Keith, kitty cat, you don’t have to do any of that. I don’t give fuck all about any rules that the people who had you before me put in your head. I don’t want anything from you other than to know that you’re happy and fed or that you’ll come to me when you’re upset about something so we can fix it together. I don’t want to just be your owner or sponsor--whatever you wanna call it, I wanna be your friend. Someone that you can trust, not fear.” 

Shiro watched the two and noticed the way that Keith’s tail beat happily against the human’s leg. Even if he was upset, Keith instinctively let himself be happy around Lance. The doberman felt like he could finally relax; that he wouldn’t have to rip Lance away from the kitten or something far worse. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Keith, where we were… Those people weren’t good. They didn’t want us to live healthy, happy lives. They were the ones doing wrong, not you. Not me.” There was a slight waver in his voice but he grit his teeth and continued. “They hurt us more than either of us could deserve in a thousand lifetimes… the things they forced us to learn, to do… None of it was okay. Lance, Allura, Hunk and Pidge, they aren’t like them. They aren’t going to treat us like that, nor have they. We can be safe to sit anywhere or do what he want. I promise.” 

Allura nodded, she had her hands free and folded in front of her. “No one is going to hurt you or belittle your choices, Keith. There are laws that everyone must abide by in our country, and I am so, so sorry for that, but in your own home, here, you are a free man. I know i speak for Lance when I say that you can sit anywhere and do exactly as you please on your own time, sweetie. No one is going to think less of you if you eat what you want or sleep all day. You are allowed those luxuries because you are alive and you are intelligent. Not because you’re a pet or being particularly  _ good _ that day.”

Lance pressed his face back into Keith’s hair, trying to grasp for words that would ever resonate with the feeling welling up in his chest. He felt ashamed that he hadn’t noticed how much his kitten was struggling. He felt heartbroken that such a heavy point of anxiety was a simple luxury like being comfortable in your own home. The Cuban boy let his eyes close. “Keith, I… I love having you here. I love waking up in the morning and seeing you before having to go out in the world. You’re so funny and soft, this isn’t about my comfort or living. I selfishly want you here, but those are my own emotions. I want you to be happy. I want you to be selfish for yourself. I want you to live and be  _ free _ as if you were human just like me. No rules, no guidelines, just doing what you yourself feels right. I’ll never hold you back from that… I want you to feel safe.”


	13. Lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I'm going to ramble a bit, but I really hope you all read it<3]
> 
> Ohhhhhh jeez. Guys. I... 
> 
> I don't really have proper excuses, really. I don't. I can't fathom how this story has just practically *grown* in popularity in it's impromptu hiatus that I never meant to take. But all of you that have read this, left comments, talked about the fic, kudos, everything... you guys are all so, so amazing. I can't believe it. In my last update this fic was almost at 11k reads and not even 1k kudos, but in an almost YEAR abandonment you guys near doubled the stats. I just... wow. I'm just blown away. I never, ever thought anyone would remotely care about this story.
> 
> And honestly, I can say that writing this story has been one of the best decisions I've ever made. Since my last update, my life has just completely been flipped around. I moved 2000 miles across the country, I met my boyfriend from this fic. And my best friend. I just. Fuck, you guys. Fic is a powerful thing and I couldn't be more humbled by it all really. My mental and physical health hasn't been the greatest in the last year, and I've barely been able to put words to paper which is why this update took so long while being so short. But I promise I'm going to try for better. I want to do better. I love this story dearly and I don't want it to die. 
> 
> Would anyone be interested if I made a patreon to show more of the world building and behind the scenes things that I've done to get this fic fleshed out? I could give access to my google doc so that you all could see how I write and brainstorm, early releases of my outlines and character studies and such. Along with Fic requests and access to other stuff I work on too, of course. I have thought about making a patreon and opening commissions for a while, so please. If that's something you would like, please please let me know. I also have a [ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/A484CGP) in case anyone felt like they would like to tip me or something like that. ;u; This story will always be free, and I will always update as much as I can, but I would appreciate any support from you guys. <3 monetary or comments, complains, asks, any of it. Seriously. Talk to me, don't be shy. 
> 
> But, I think I'm done rambling. Thank you all so much for sticking with me, and I just wanna do right by you guys. <3 
> 
> pls come talk to me any time~ seriously, i love it.  
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/bluepalafin) | [Tumblr](http://bluepalafin.tumblr.com/) | [Ko-fi ](http://ko-fi.com/A484CGP)
> 
>  
> 
> **Chapter Inspired by:**  
> [ Lost ft. Savoi by Kontinuum](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vKAHowm3Ry0&index=14&list=PLjbze5aGCE3VQHt8apNAwjrab0qpdO8Al)

It took a long time for Shiro to really trust that Keith was safe with Lance. He knew how easy it was to let a human manipulate and gaslight a galra’s trust and Keith was especially vulnerable if talking to Coran was anything to go by. He wanted to make sure that the little cat was seriously being taken care of rather than just used and abused all over again. It was hard, technically Shiro wasn’t supposed to get this personally involved with anyone enrolled in their program but there was just such a heavy level of guilt rising in his chest every time he saw the way Keith’s ear twitched… It really couldn’t be helped. He wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew Keith was happy and at the very least on the road to recovery. 

Shiro slumped down in his office chair, running his fingers through his hair. His prosthetic fingers seemed to catch a bit on a few strands and it made him frown. No one escaped the fights without some damage. He felt responsible and guilty but really, he was just utterly exhausted. He knew if he didn’t rest he was going to burn out, but what else could he really do? A small knock on the door seemed to pull the dobermann out of his thoughts, the smell wafting in the air easing his mind a bit. 

“Shiro?” There was a small voice at the door to the dog’s office. The sound made Shiro’s tail start to wag; it seemed to be an involuntary response these days. 

A small, baby faced cat galra poked his head through the crack in the door, one of his ears pressed adorably to the edge of the door frame. “O-oh, good. You’re in your office! Ms. Allura said that she was going out to lunch if you wanted anything?” 

Shiro let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and smiled softly. He stood up, shrugging his blazer on over his broad shoulders. “Actually, I’ll do one better. Why don’t you and I go down to that little coffee shop you like down the street? My treat.”

The short cat held a powdery flush on his cheeks and he bit his bottom lip, “Uhm, I’m not… I’m not sure I’m allowed to leave…” 

Shiro moved over from behind his desk and smiled at him, reaching over and ruffling the boy’s hair. “Well, considering you’re my assistant an’ I’m going to lunch, I feel like you have the right to take your lunch too. Come on, Toast. It will be good for you to stretch your legs and get out of the building for a little bit. I think the both of us spend far too much time in this cement prison.” 

Toast let his shoulders slump for a second just before his tail swayed behind him happily. “I… uhm. Alright. I think I’d really like that.”    
  
The two of them walked down the hallway after showing their ID cards to the front desk. Shiro’s tail seemed to really have a mind of it’s own, not wanting to remotely stop wagging. Every time he was around this little galra, Shiro felt just a little more at ease. He wondered if this was the same feeling Keith got around Lance… Shiro wasn’t stupid. He knew that little cat had the Cuban boy marked to high heaven and knew what it meant. 

Glancing at the cat at his hip, Shiro smiled, clearing his throat. “What do you think you want for lunch?” Simple conversation was always for the best, right?

“Oh, uhm… I just, uh,” Toast seemed to be fidgeting a little bit so Shiro slowed down his pace, letting the smaller man catch up on his thoughts. “I don’t have any extra funds right now, I… I just paid off my sponsorship fees and I… you know. I was just going to spend time with you while you ate.” His voice only seemed to get quieter as he spoke.

Shiro frowned although he was touched that Toast wanted to spend time with him regardless. He pulled them off the walking path and into a little alcove beside a corner street Starbucks. “Oh, kitten…” His eyes widened slightly, hoping he didn’t offend the other. “I mean, uh. Toast. Sorry. Toast, you don’t have to not eat. I already said I was paying.” 

A light flush of blue raced the cat’s cheeks and he ran his fingers through his hair. “You don’t have to do that…”

“But I want to. I invited you out, I made you take your lunch break. Come on. It’ll be like a date. Me, you, some fantastic coffee and maybe a couple of those bagel sandwiches that always smell so good.” 

Toast’s ears were pin straight on the top of his head; cherub-like face the dictionary example of shocked. “D-date?!”

It was the doberman's turn to feel warmth in his cheeks as his tail wagged shamelessly behind him. He swore he would get it docked if it didn’t stop giving away every emotion that flitted through his head. He nodded gently nonetheless. “Yes; a date. I mean, only with your consent of course.” Shiro rose his metal hand up as a peace offering.

Toast was looking at Shiro like he had started spontaneously foaming at the mouth and biting everyone that couldn't get away fast enough. It made the canine galra feel a little self conscious and his ears lowered. He felt the need to apologize.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to be so forward… I, uhm,” he was floundering, “I still would like to pay for your food regardless. Lack of attraction to me doesn't mean you, you know, don't need food to survive or anyth--”

“Y-you actually want to date me?!” Toast’s voice was almost a squeak so high that only canine galra would be able to hear it. If his cheeks radiated that hue any brighter, Shiro was sure the cat was going to pass out from blood rush.

The broad shouldered man nodded gently, not really sure why the other wanted to grind that point home if he was rejecting him. “It was a thought. You make me smile and, i like having you around. But I won't make you accept or anything I just thought I'd give it a go and try to see what could happen… but we sh--”

“Y-yes!” Toast looked down, his white overlayer of hair looking bushy just like his tail as he spoke to Shiro’s shoes. His hands clenched kind of like a child who didn't know what to do with them. “I would l-love to go on a date with you!” 

Shiro’s face slacked, now completely taken aback by how Toast smelled and how his tail was swaying with excitement. Apparently Shiro’s apology had been a bit premature. He stepped forward gently, tilting the cat’s chin up with his forefinger and thumb. He wanted to see those pretty yellow eyes. “You just made me that happiest puppy in LA. Do you think it would be okay to hold your hand while we start this date proper?”

\-- 

“Foot?”

“Foot.”

Keith hiked his leg up, almost losing his balance slightly before wiggling his whiskers a bit to find a better sense of equilibrium. The galra even went as far as to nudge his blanket out of the way. He spread and wiggled his toes, very much so showing off the slight webbing and distinctly not human qualities of his padded toes. The muscles twitched in his leg, making his toes clench. Surprisingly sharp and large claws poked close against the adorable toe pads. He tilted his head, ears wiggling. “Foot?”

Lance laughed, the sound coming from deep in his stomach. He had to set the sketchbook he’d had in his lap over the side, on the far right cushion so that it wouldn’t fall and bend the spine. This little cat was goofy and absolutely adorable in the oddest of ways. No one had the right to be that charming without even trying. The human nodded despite the laughter and holding at his chest. “Yes. I want your foot so I can draw it. I have to do an animal anatomy piece for my class. So why not take advantage of the perfect home model I have?”

Lance could have swore that the cat blushed but before he could tease him or add another compliment, that foot hanging in the air extended out even more. Without remotely missing a beat, Keith started lifting it up so that he could lick on the back of his paw right where the spreading was.

The brunette was shocked speechless, unsure of the emotions that rapid fire smashed into his poor unforgiving brain. It was moments like this that Lance realized that Keith was very significantly not human. Despite the obvious purple hue, tail, and other animal features, it was shockingly easy to just think of the feline as possibly an overtly sheltered roommate and friend. No human, not even one trained in the womb to be a gymnast, could possibly bend like that and just make it look effortless and almost mundane. Lance let himself indulge slightly; eyes taking the scenic route down Keith's legs to the now thankfully strong looking thigh muscles but absolutely refused to let himself lick his lips. 

That was crossing a line, wasn't it? All of it was really. Did Galra show romantic or sexual interest the same way humans do? Oh god. Was their anatomy even remotely comparable? DID KEITH HAVE BARBS ON HIS COCK?! Do… do male galra even have a penis? Surely, cisgender males have penises… Right? Keith was still kinda human, after all… just you know, genetically modified. Oh fuck. How… how do you even ask someone that?! Could Lance just google it? Would that be weird? What if he used the wifi at Pidge’s apartment again and she read off his search history? Would she laugh or throw things at him? It was just… natural curiosity, right? He was allowed to be curious. That wouldn’t give away his incessant need to smooch and hold the cat. Definitely not. He didn't touch or stare too long, and never would without explicit, thorough consent so... thinking wasn't the end of the world, right?

A shudder ran down the Cuban boy’s spine at the thought of what Shiro would do if he could hear the thoughts running through Lance’s mind some days. He was still touchy and not incredibly fond of being around him alone and it’d been weeks! 

Lance let his eyes pull away from the blank space he had zoned out in and almost wept. The purple cat had his toes in his mouth now, eyes closed as he nibbled on one of the middle nails before his pink, shockingly smooth looking tongue swirled around one of the deep purple, almost black toe pads. Keith was literally sucking on his toe beans like it was the most natural thing in the world  ~~(because well, it was)~~ , and Lance was going to suffer an aneurysm. 

This was a mistake. Abort mission. He's just going to have to fail his anatomy class. Lance wasn't strong enough for this. Mentally, physically,  _ spiritually _ ; doesn't matter. He was weak. Nothing had the right to be that innocent yet filthy. Death, thy name is Keith.

Lance turned his frame slightly to pick his sketchbook up again, needing some kind of distraction to occupy the space in his brain that seemed to have free reign on his libido. His entire body froze at the feeling of sinfully smooth skin paired with soft, albeit wet, fur tickling at his cheek. Keith pressed his foot to Lance’s face, his ears flicking excitedly.

“Foot cl-clean! Can dra-aw!” The little cat’s whiskers were forward, clearly excited about the prospect now that he’d had time to process what was happening. 

The art student blinked several times just wanting to laugh at the pure absurdity of this situation. A human sized paw was being pressed against his face; said paw was connected to a gorgeous and  _ smiling _ Galra who clearly didn’t grasp why this was possibly the funniest and most adorable thing to happen to anyone in the universe ever. He reached up just a little bit, grasping gently at the other boy’s lower ankle, just enough to pull his little kitten’s foot off his cheek without Keith losing his balance. Lance’s thumb glided encouragingly through the fur, watching Keith’s ears twitch in interest.   
  
“You have the cutest little paws, you know that, right?” Lance grinned at the way pointed ears went stock straight give a few involuntary flicks that couldn’t be helped.    
  
“J-just a foot. A-am not that sp-special.” Keith’s face was warm and it only egged the other man on.    
  
“Nope. Best and cutest little foots in all of the galaxy. Puttin’ my money on it right here, right now. People are gonna worship these cute little feet one day.” Lance pressed his thumb against the sole pad of Keith’s foot and watched him shiver. It had to tickle, going by the way Keith’s toes gripped at Lance’s thumb out of reflex.    
  
“Em-embarrasing!” Keith whined softly but his smile gave away that he was just trying to chide and play with Lance. God, Lance couldn’t be more proud of his little cat.    
  
Lance had to clear his head before he decided to start day dreaming of cakes and sheer veils. With a gentle tap to Keith’s paw, he lowered the boy’s leg down and let it rest. How had he managed to stay balanced for so long on just one leg, anyway? Jesus. How did this little cat just not see how impressive he really was?    


“Alright, kitty cat. Why don’t you go get a drink from the kitchen and then make yourself comfortable? Sit where ever you want, I just need to be able to see you with your feet propped up, okay?” Lance rubbed the material of his jeaned thighs, deciding that getting his homework done for the evening was likely the best idea so that he could just relax the rest of the night and enjoy his roommate’s new willingness to joke and smile.   
  
Keith did as he was told and let his tail sway as he walked. His claws lightly clicked along the cheap linoleum in their kitchen and the little galra couldn’t stop smiling to himself. The day had been pretty lazy but something in the air just smelled sweet and Lance was smiling at him again without that look of sadness in his eyes. It was a good day. He opened their refrigerator and took out a bottle of powerade for himself and one of the sodas for Lance. Hunk demanded he stay drinking the gatorades and sports drinks until he was confirmed a healthy weight and staying hydrated. Keith didn’t mind it; he really liked the blue ones Lance bought.    
  
After handing over the soda, Keith looked around the living room, trying to think of where he should sit so that Lance could start his art project. His eyes trailed to the sofa and with a steady grip on his bottle, the little cat climbed onto the far cushion from Lance so that he could lean his back against the armrest while sticking his feet out for the artist to mimic on paper. His ears wiggled a bit, his tail wrapping around his legs.   
  
“I-is this...o-okay?” He asked, his voice soft and a bit more quiet than he’d intended.

Lance gave a wide grin. “Perfect, kitten.” 


	14. Oceans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you beautiful people! <3 Look who managed to update again without a year passing by. 
> 
> This one is a little on the short side, and I'm sorry ; w ; but I'm doing all kinds of stuff behind the scenes for this story. <3 
> 
> I now have a patreon, a ko-fi, and a lot of other things if you'd like to follow and support me and my writing. Including watching me turn this story into an original novel.<3 I have commissions open too! 
> 
> [you can find all of that here!](http://rickyykat.tumblr.com/post/167980701380)
> 
> You can also add me on tumblr/twitter to talk to me any time <3 You know you want to!
> 
> Inspiration for this chapter: [Oceans by Sonny Moore](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z3g4f235ZJw&index=15&list=PLjbze5aGCE3VQHt8apNAwjrab0qpdO8Al)

Keith wrapped his tail around his thigh as he shifted in an attempt to make himself more comfortable. His ankles were starting to go numb from his weight; he hated sitting cross legged like a human. Coran told him that it wasn’t good to keep his knees to his chin all of the time, though. It would eventually start to hurt his back and make him feel like a scolded animal even though he wasn't one.

The rather loud man was oddly charming; Keith wasn't completely against the therapy sessions that Shiro urged him to try. The little plastic things (Lance had called them legos but Keith was pretty positive that was wrong… Didn't they eat those for breakfast sometimes?) were fun to fit together. The colorful bricks were oddly pleasing to his eyes even if he wasn't sure of what he was actually building. It was easier to stare at his hands and create something instead of focusing too hard on the words that left his mouth.

“When is the last time that you had a friendly encounter with another galra, Keith? I mean, besides Shiro.” Coran looked over the file on his desk, copying a few things to his computer. 

“I…” Keith wrinkled his nose, trying to think back. He tried not to think about the past much, especially the times before he met Lance. “Uhm, not s-sure. Older dog lady wa-wagged her tail when Lance said nice things a-about her dress. She smiled at me and Lance.”

Coran noted it in his file. “That seems to be more Lance interacting and you just kind of following along though, right?” 

Keith fit a yellow square on top of a green rectangle, right in the middle. He added those two new pieces to the eldritch horror in lego form that rested in his lap. “I guess so… I d-don't… I don't like seeing other g-galra. Shiro… Sh-shiro is still hard to look at.” 

Coran’s brows rose at that. He adjusted himself to properly sit forward, his elbows propped on his desk. “Oh really? Why is that, Keith?”

Nimble purple fingers started plucking a few of the different plastic pieces off of his monstrosity and Keith's ears lowered. His shaggy tail flicked behind him a few times before going back to wrap loosely over his leg. “A-all look sad… no… N-no one of us… we never look h-happy.” 

Coran took note of Keith's body language and tried to think of a good way to approach this subject. He could already tell that it was going to be like picking a needle from a hay stack. “Sad… in what way? Why do galra seem sad to you, Keith? Is it a look they give you or something you sense off them?”

Whiskers shifted and Keith's ear flicked. He scratched at his cheek lightly as he leaned back against the pillows Coran had offered him for back support. “I uh, I d-don't…” He kept staring down at his lap, deciding to dig through the blue bucket of spare lego pieces for something to add to the side of his stress project. 

“Maybe… m-maybe I'm just… i don't know. None of them look happy like I feel when I'm with L-Lance… I feel like maybe my feelings are wrong or not real.” 

“You don't think you deserve to feel happy with Lance because you don't think other galra are happy with their caretakers?” Coran’s fingers tapped against his desk, trying to whittle down Keith’s core thoughts. “You feel as if maybe you aren't allowed happiness with Lance?”

There was a loud rustling noise as Keith’s hands mixed up the different plastic pieces. The slightly cold, smooth material felt wonderful against his skin and he wanted to find a perfect piece for the top of whatever it was that he was making. He was fighting the urge to scratch the back of his ear with his paw but that would require taking off his shoes and socks. Coran wasn't fond of him doing overtly animal things, anyway.

“...Keith?"

“M-maybe I feel the wr-wrong happy…”

\--

“Lance called and said that he was running a little late, Keith. You can sit in my office if you don't want to be around a lot of people.” Shiro gave the cat a warm look accompanied by a light pat on top of the head. He had his coat on, rolls of paper under his arm. He looked like he was off to kinkos or something. 

Keith's ears lowered and he shifted from foot to foot. He wrapped his jacket tighter around his frame and took the offer for solitude. The little galra loved his ugly red jacket. It clashed with his fur and the yellow of his eyes but the material felt so soft. The halter jacket was just the right weight so it kind of felt like Lance was hugging him or his blanket from home was wrapped tight around his shoulders every time he snuggled it close. 

The kitten wasn't particularly fond of being alone but as classic paradoxes go, he got panicked when surrounded by too many unfamiliar faces. It was hard; sometimes the dull lighting of a fighting arena would warp around him. The children were always worse though; their pleading hunger stricken faces looking to him as a fallen hero. Either way, the phantom  smells were unbearable and left him cowering and begging for Lance. 

Sometimes the silence was a blessing, if Keith let himself think about it. He curled up in one of the squishy chairs, knees to his chin in a small defiance against Coran. He wasn't Keith’s owner and didn't have the right to give him rules outside of that office, so… Nyahhh to you, Doctor man.

A gentle knock on the door pulled Keith out of his thoughts and he full body shifted; knees dropping down and back straightening so that he sat more like a human. Keith’s shoulders seemed to relax a little bit when he saw the fuzzy ears of Shiro’s assistant. The little cat was always warm smiles and smelled like fresh vanilla. 

“Hi Keith, Shiro told me you were waiting in here. I figured you'd like something to drink or a cookie. I made a batch for the office last night.” Toast lifted a tupperware container and let it rattle with the sweet treats inside. 

Toast was an adorable cat galra that Keith had seen a few times in the office. Keith liked running errands with Lance when he was allowed and they seemed to always end up at the agency for one reason or another. Toast was soft spoken and seemed to sense that Keith didn't do well with loud or boisterous greetings. 

Keith brushed a few locks of his hair out of his eyes, and he returned a smile to the other. He turned himself to face Toast more, hoping that he seemed at least thankful for the treat. Hunk had told him a few weeks ago that he was incredibly standoffish without trying to be sometimes. 

“Th-Thank you. I…” Keith let himself think about it. Was it really alright for him to have sweets or anything like that? Lance wasn't here to tell him it was okay. He scraped his slight fangs against his bottom lip, “I ap-appreciate it, but maybe next t-time? You can uh, y-you can sit with m-me if you don't mind?” 

Toast’s tail fluffed slightly and he nodded with a wide grin. “Of course! I'd love to keep you company!”

It was so easy to smile around this happy galra. Part of Keith actually wanted to go back to Coran and tell him about this; about Toast. It wasn't that he'd forgotten about Toast in his therapy session or anything like that though. Toast was just blatantly marked by Shiro. He, in the simplest terms, smelled like he belonged to the Doberman so when Keith thought of Toast, his mind instantly turned to Shiro. 

Toast opened the cookie container and gave Keith a quick wink. “They are fresh and soft. Go on, it can be our little secret. I won't let anyone else know.” 

Keith's ears turned, zeroing in on the other cat for a moment. He searched Toast’s face, finding that it was hard to feel on edge with him. The smaller galra only radiated happiness and a trustworthy air. It was easier to understand the cartoons that he and Lance would watch together now when they talked about having a “mom friend”.

Toast’s bright yellow eyes looked so soft against his fluffy white hair and pale purple skin. His face was rounded and happy, complimented by his small stature. If Keith had ever taken the time to imagine his own mother, he'd hope for someone resembling Toast. Tentatively, Keith took a proffered cookie and curled back up in his chair. 

“Thank you, T-Toast.” 

“It’s no problem at all, Keith. I'm glad to see anyone enjoy the treats I make.” The older galra smiled warmly and gently patted Keith's knee with an obvious hint of platonic affection. 

Keith flexed his toes against the soles of his boots, wanting to take them off again and let his paws stretch but decided to just extend his legs like a small child and swing them back and forth leisurely. He nibbled at the cookie he'd commandeered from Toast and sighed, appreciating the comfortable air between them.

“C-Coran asked me if I had good memories of g-galra in our t-talk time. I wish I had said m-meeting you.” Keith's ears flicked, full of hope, as he glanced at the smaller male with a smile.

Toast’s heart warmed and his tail flicked happily. “That's incredibly sweet of you, Keith.” His whiskers wriggled and he pulled a cookie out of the plastic for himself. “You are a lovely person too, you know. I'm happy to know you.” 

Keith’s chest felt tight. He was excited, almost wanting to reach out and embrace the other cat. Was this how Lance felt when he was with Hunk and Pidge? He let his hand rest on his collar as he finished the delicious chocolate chip cookie. He found himself playing with his collar more often than not, lately. It was perfect for idle hands.

Both galra seemed to gravitate toward a comfortable silence and Keith curled back into himself, resting his cheek against his knees. He looked over at Toast, whom seemed to be checking emails on his phone, and gave a small smile. There was something calming and wonderful about this kitten. Keith could see without a doubt why Shiro wanted to mark and keep him. He yawned against his knees, small fangs shining under the fluorescent light.

\--

“-tty cat,” 

Keith shivered, feeling a warm hand brush through his hair. He tried to say that he was awake but the only thing leaving his throat was a garbled mewl. He arched into the sturdy fingers at his scalp and let his ears relax as the world started to come back into focus around him. An earthy warm smell flooded his senses and Keith found himself fighting the urge to wag his tail like a puppy. 

_ Lance. _

When Keith noticed the tanned man bending over in front of him, a broad, if sleepy, smile crept onto his features. A gravelly hum scratched at his throat but Keith pushed it down. He coughed to clear his chest and more properly nuzzled the top of his head into Lance’s hand. 

“There’s my big cat.” Lance gave a cheeky smile. 

Lance straightened up, slipping his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He chewed on the inside of his cheek before looking between Toast and Keith. “I'm sorry I couldn't be here for your appointment, Keith. I had an extended lecture. That's why I'm late… what if I take you to get something sweet to drink to go with the cookies Toast bagged up for you?”

Keith gasped softly and looked back at Toast. The galra in question was flushed a soft navy and holding out the bag of offered sweets. Keith stumbled over himself, trying to think of a reasonable excuse to be given food like that. He opened his mouth to apologize to Lance, but the Cuban beat him to it.

“It's okay, Keith. Toast said that he made too many and offered to give them to us. You haven't done anything wrong. You can always accept a gift if you want it, okay?” Lance reached out and let his fingers comb through the fur on Keith’s left ear. 

A breath puffed through Keith’s chest, his shoulders relaxing at Lance’s gentle touch. He felt a weird tug at his throat but pushed it away again, moving to stand up properly. He bowed his head slightly, accepting the small batch of cookies from Toast.

“Th-thank you, Toast. Y-you didn't ha-have to.” 

Toast clicked his tongue and shook his head playfully. “Aw, Keith. It's my pleasure. C’mere and hug me. That's thanks enough.” He opened his arms noncommittally, not going to force Keith into contact if he wasn't ready. 

Keith glanced back at Lance for only a second, trying his hardest to not search his owner’s face for approval. He shuffled forward and sat the cookies in the chair he'd been sitting in, wrapping his arms around Toast. The embrace was gentle, warmth cultivating between them as Toast rubbed his face affectionately against Keith’s shoulder. 

A happy, gravelly noise vibrated from Toast’s throat, making Keith’s ears perk high. He smiled, fingers dancing over Toast’s back as he tried to mimic how Lance hugged him. The cat really, really hoped he was doing this right. 


End file.
